The Seer (Tellaran Series) (11 page)

He touched his mouth to hers. “So beautiful,” he murmured then slowly began to sink into her folds.

Arissa watched his eyes shut briefly as he entered, his expression become absorbed as the pleasure he felt at being inside her surged through her mind. She made a soft sound at the pinch of pain when he filled her. He stayed there, his body tight. The sensation of having him inside was a wonderful shock.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice ragged, rough. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “No, please don’t stop.”

Relief and heat burst around her and he started to move. For a moment it was as if she were in two places at once, feeling him hot inside her, feeling every nerve echoing the pleasure of his movements and feeling him so aroused, holding back when he wanted to move faster, harder, trying not to hurt her, not to lose control.

“So good. Feels  . . .” His hold on her tightened, his body so taut he was trembling now.

He moved faster, deeper then, every stroke moving against her most sensitive spot.

“Can feel you,” he panted, curled over her. “Gods, can
feel
you.”

She cried out as the pleasure hit her, her insides contracting hard with it.

He bent his head, his thrusts deep and fast now, another stroke and he gave a cry, shuddering as he spent himself within her.

Jolar’s eyes were still shut; he was trembling in her arms. She touched the softness of his golden hair, so fiercely glad, so grateful it had been him first, that tears blurred her vision.

Ten

Jolar drew away to look at her, his blue eyes half closed, his breathing still quick, a smile curving his mouth.

His brow creased instantly. “Oh, no. Oh sweet, I thought—”

Tears ran down to dampen her hair but she laughed too. She shook her head.  “No, no, I’m fine! I didn’t—That was amazing! Is always like that?”

“No,” he said hoarsely. “No, Arissa, that was special.”

She took his face in her hands. “Thank you, Jolar. For making it so wonderful for me.”

He closed his eyes and bent his head. “Gods, don’t
thank
me.” He pulled out, shifting to lie beside her and gathered her against him, cradling her. “You’re okay, though?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She put her hand on his chest feeling his heartbeat under her palm. “I’m so glad you wanted to. Fuck, I mean.”

His arms tightened around her. “Don’t call it that.”

“Why not?” she asked, frowning. “What do you want me to call it?”

“Call it joining. Call it lovemaking.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “But it wasn’t—Look, just don’t call it that, okay?”

“Okay.” She ducked her head. “Did you like it?”

He gave a short laugh. “Yes. Couldn’t you tell?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “Was it as—as nice as other times for you?”

Such a storm of emotion tore though him that she raised her head to look at him. His eyes were shut tight.

“Jolar?”

He looked at her, his blue eyes wild, his emotions a jumble. Stinging pain, blossoming joy, pulling sadness, determination rolling, fierce and sharp . . .

She frowned and touched his cheek. “Jolar?”

“Even better.” The storm of his mind calmed and he kissed her with an air of possessiveness he hadn’t before.

“Do you think you’d want to do it again sometime?” she asked shyly. “With me, I mean?”

“Yes, I do. Again and again.” He chuckled. “As soon as I can.”

She frowned. “But not for a while?”

“It takes a little while for a man to be ready again. Another of the gods’ many jokes.” He sobered. “They never seem to tire of them.” He searched her face. “But you’re really all right?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She laughed. “You’re so relieved.”

His face flushed. “I can’t do what you can do. I have to guess what people are feeling from what they say, their facial expressions, their body language. You must feel like you’re explaining colors to someone who’s never been able to see them when you talk to me.” His blue eyes shone. “I wish I could do what you can do.”

“Don’t say that.” Her throat felt like it was closing and hot tears stung her eyes. “I wouldn’t wish it on you. I’m already afraid I’ll—”

“Contaminate me? Influence me?” He twirled one of her ringlets around his finger. “Manipulate me with your wicked powers?”

“Don’t joke about it,” she cried. “You don’t know that I won’t.
I
don’t know that I won’t, even if I don’t want to, don’t mean to.”

He leaned on his elbow, looking at her frankly, his palm resting on her stomach. “You’re really worried about that?”

“I do everything I can not to be telepathic, to dampen it down, to turn it off. I’ve read about the trials, the harm Seers are capable of. That’s why they made the laws. Because people like me hurt people like you.”

“Two hundred years ago people like you supported the royal family,” he said a little sharply. “They fought on the side of the crown during the civil war. Maybe being on the losing side had more to do with those laws than any harm Seers ever did.”

“I didn’t realize you had such an interest in history.”

“My father was the one with the interest in history. The lost legacy of our family, the fall of the Tellaran royal house . . .” Jolar shook his head. “He could go on for hours about it. He said that the Seers kept their loyalty oaths, that they died with honor while the Zartani lords caved to the New Order.”

She hesitated but her father was dead, he couldn’t be prosecuted now. “My father found some works in the archives on Apovia about Seers, when they were sought out, trained in the temples, held important positions. It was an awful risk for him to smuggle those out of the archive for me. Just reading them put him in danger of being arrested but he wanted me to see them. He didn’t want me to be so—so ashamed.”

Shock reverberated through him. “Gods, is that how you feel? Ashamed?”

She couldn’t look at him. How could she explain how much it hurt to know that she could never be like him? Never really be part of the life she could see around her? Never be anything than other, different, frightening?

How much she hated the part of herself she knew would always keep her from him?

“Arissa, if you’ve been actively trying to clamp down on your abilities then you don’t even know what you’re capable of! We need to find out what you can
really
do if you try.” He stroked her cheek. “You can practice on me.”

Her gaze flew to his face. “No,” she breathed. “No, I can’t. What if I hurt you? I could—”

“You won’t,” he said firmly. “How can we use your abilities to the fullest if we don’t even know what they are? They may make all the difference. They might keep us alive.” He traced her cheek with his fingertips. “Do you trust me, sweet?”

She wet her lips. “Yes.”

“I want to learn what you can do. I want us to learn together.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Don’t you?”

She closed her eyes, concentrated on the feel of his skin, the warmth and comfort of his big body curled around hers, the precious acceptance.

“All right,” she whispered. “If that’s what you want, Jolar.”

She couldn’t read him when she was sleeping.

She was resting easy now, safe in his arms, her mouth parted in sleep like a child. Jolar finally allowed himself the luxury of relaxing control over his feelings, letting them rage as they would.

When she slept was about the only time he had to let the full impact of this mess fill his mind. Distance seemed to keep her from reading him too.

But he didn’t want to be away from her. Not at all.

Gods, I’m so absolutely fucked.

There were novice priestesses at Seleni’s temple that were less sheltered than she was. She’d been hidden away, a virtual prisoner her whole life, watching others make friends, go to school, forced to learn about life through books and holos . . . 

Just looking into those wide green eyes, so frightened, so guarded, even as her gaze darted about, eager to take in some of what she’d been denied, made his heart ache.

The whole thing made him wish for a stun pike and ten minutes alone in a room with whoever enacted the whole anti-Seer laws in the first place.

He covered his eyes with his hand as shame rushed over him. Shoving money in her hand like that. The growing frustration of wanting to kiss her at the airskating rink, tonight before dinner, longing to be alone with her, the wanting that started since the moment he’d seen her on Tellar and had grown completely out of control, the hunger that drove him to make that stupid ‘let’s-fuck-for-the-sake-of-the-mission’ demand. . .

I’m the one who deserves ten minutes under that stun pike.

I just blindly accepted her story on Tellar. I should have known better, asked more questions, been gentle with her. Just looking at her I should have known she’s been through hell.

He’d no idea
how
sheltered she’d been. It never occurred to him how much of life she’d missed. How innocent she was.

How could take her to Sertar? The place was a snake pit. But he couldn’t send her back to the capital either. There was nowhere to hide her; nowhere he could be certain she would be safe within Tellaran space without that ID. 

Not pretty? He could hardly take his eyes off her.

What the hell am I going to do?

For one heartbeat, just as she hovered at the edge of her pleasure, the barriers between them fell away.
He’d felt her
. Her excitement, her nervousness, her arousal—but so much more. He traced the sharpness of her intellect, the depth of her compassion, the warm innate joy that her enforced isolation could dampen but not destroy.

For that single instant too he became alert to other minds in her awareness and unguarded, found himself swept along pools of sorrow, buoyed over swells of joy . . .

A flash of the universe through her eyes.

It was the most precious moment of his life.

He smoothed away an ebony curl from her face.

My sweet one.
His eyes stung.
How am I ever going to let you go?

A good man? An honorable one?

Hardly.

And when she knew the truth, it was going to end everything.

Eleven

Jolar pressed a kiss against her temple, his arm around her waist. “We should have had breakfast in our suite.”

From their place in the line outside the Twin Suns restaurant Arissa judged it would be several minutes before they even reached the host station. “We can go to the dining room.”

“Oh, we long ago missed our breakfast seating.” His hand slid lower down her back to just the edge of where it could decently rest in public. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I chose the early one.”

“We can go back to our suite and eat there instead.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he said huskily his other arm going around her too. “You’re lucky I let you get dressed at all.”

A few curious glances turned their way and her face flushed. His words weren’t far from the truth, he’d kissed her awake and let her have a single cup of white tea before sending her to dress for breakfast. But he caught her before she made it to the dressing room and kissed her back to the bed before her growling stomach made him reluctantly break off and send her again.

All her work had gone for nothing because once she’d dressed and joined him in the living room, he soon kissed her right back to their room, her clothes tossed to the floor and breakfast forgotten again.

He gave a soft laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t have said that so loud.”

She ducked her head as the line shuffled a few steps forward. Her cheeks burned but she sensed that, while he hadn’t meant to embarrass her, Jolar didn’t really care if everyone within earshot knew how they’d spent their morning.

“Hello Arissa.”

“Oh.” Seeing who it was exiting the restaurant, Arissa smiled. “Good morning, Kemma, Lian.”

Kemma turned her smile on Jolar. “We didn’t have much of an opportunity to meet yesterday.”

Jolar looked as if he were trying to place her.

“We were seated at your table last night,” Kemma reminded.

His face lit with recognition. “That’s right,” he said, “I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Jolar Legan.” He unwrapped one arm from around Arissa to shake Lian’s hand.

“Good to meet you,” Lian said.

“I’m sorry we intruded,” Kemma said, smiling between them. “I didn’t realize it was your honeymoon.”

“It’s not,” Jolar said. “We’ve been married for almost four years.”

“Really?” Puzzlement rippled off Kemma. “I’m sorry. You two are just so—” She laughed lightly. “Well, you’re happily married anyway.”

Jolar shifted his weight. “I have a lot to be grateful for.”

“Remember that.” Kemma glanced at Arissa. “Your wife is charming. She deserves your best.”

“Yes.” Jolar’s eyes narrowed a bit. “She does.”

The odd tension between them was making Arissa’s stomach clench. “How’s the food here?”

“Wonderful,” Lian said. “The onka cakes with the gravy were delicious. Kemma had the fruit platter like she always does.”

“Occupational hazard.” Kemma said with a wry smile. “Constant dieting.”

Jolar’s smile was puzzled. “Are you an actress?”

Kemma smirked up at him playfully. “It’s a sad day indeed when you Fleet types don’t recognize a Niman Ornament.”

“How did you know I was in the Fleet?” Jolar asked sharply.

“I thought—” Kemma looked at Arissa, confused. “Didn’t you say the last time you moved he was on patrol?”

“Yes,” Arissa agreed immediately. “At dinner we were talking about moving and last time I had to do everything because you were—”

“At the border,” Jolar finished with a smile as his tension fell. “She had to handle it all alone. I’m not sure I’ll ever live it down.”

“So who bought breakfast?” Arissa asked. “They had a bet that the last night’s winner would buy breakfast today,” she explained to Jolar.

“Kelm and I split the cost of the fruit platter. My only good luck is that Kemma is such a light eater.” He shook his head fondly. “I don’t know why I ever let you goad me into betting with you. I always lose.”

Kemma gave him a fond nudge, her affection for her protector not at all feigned. “Not always.”

The line moved again and Lian glanced toward the host’s station. “Well, looks like you’re up next so we’ll let you go.”

Kemma nodded to Jolar and gave Arissa a warm smile. “I hope to see you again.”

Arissa grinned back, sensing Kemma’s sincerity. “I’d really like that.”

“An Ornament?” Jolar raised an eyebrow, sliding his hands around her again. “I’m not sure I want you keeping company with someone like that. Might be a bad influence.”

“Funny. What was that about Niman Ornaments and Fleet types?”

His face colored.

Suddenly the humor of it was gone. He’d had other lovers, of course he’d had. Women as beautiful as Kemma had heated a bed with him—women whose soft limbs sought to hold him a little longer when the sun rose, whose lips parted with sighs of regret when he’d left them . . .

“Name?”

Arissa turned to the hostess, breaking Jolar’s hold. “Legan.”

The woman entered the name and smiling led them to a table for two.

Caf, juice and tea were soon served, the staff bustling around them as they attended to patrons. The restaurant was humming with activity, many of the tables filled with families with children.

“Place is swamped,” Jolar observed. “I hope we get breakfast before it’s time for dinner.”

Arissa kept her eyes on her menu, upset yet still ravenous enough to finish off half the offerings.

Jolar ordered sular steak and eggs, Arissa choose onka cakes with grimp toast and fruit.

She threw a narrowed look at the waiter’s raised eyebrows.
Spend a few months starving on Tellar and then talk to me about the size of my breakfast.

“What do you want to do today?” Jolar asked, lifting his mug of caf. “There’s still lots on board we didn’t try yesterday.”

She shrugged. A toddler at the next table howled and his exasperated mother tried again to get him to drink his juice. “Whatever you like.”

“We haven’t been to the pool or the gaming center. We could try our luck at one of the casinos.”

“You choose.”

The boy continued to fuss. Arissa rubbed at her forehead with the pads of her fingers.

“Are you angry with me?” Jolar asked quietly. “You’re hardly looking at me.”

“I’m sorry.” She stirred nectar into her tea as the boy whimpered. “I don’t have any right to be upset.”

“Sure you do.” Jolar gave her a searching look. “If you think you’re only one of dozens.”

She winced. “Only dozens?”

“Sweet,” Jolar said softly, his blue eyes serious as the boy arched away from his mother. “This is different.”

“Festering hell!” Arissa cried, twisting to glare the boy’s mother, her hand pressed against her temple. “Take him to the medcenter, his ears hurt!”

The woman blinked, her mouth parting and shock rippled through the restaurant at Arissa’s outburst.

Arissa’s gaze darted from one set of staring eyes to the next.

Run! Oh, gods, have to run before they—

Jolar’s hand closed over hers.

“Our nephew does that,” Jolar said a little too loudly. “Poor kid’s had so many ear infections I’m not sure my sister slept a whole night last year.”

The woman looked down at the boy in her arms. He was tugging on one of his ears, his big brown eyes filled with tears.

“Oh! Oh, I didn’t even think of that! He’s been so cranky that I thought just the schedule change but—” The woman gently touched her son’s ear. “Oh, numkin, is that what’s wrong?”

Jolar’s thumb stroked the back of her hand as Arissa sought to control her trembling. The conversations and clatter of silverware on plates began to fill the restaurant again as the woman carried her child out.

“Good,” Jolar said brightly to the waiter who arrived with their meals. “I’m starving.”

He poured himself more caf. “It’s all right,” he murmured.

She raised frightened eyes to his.

“It is.” He glanced around. “Check for yourself.”

Wetting her lips, she did but found no hint of lingering interest or suspicion.

“You’re not going to make me eat this all by myself, are you?” he asked.

Their little table was full of food, most of it her order.

Last night and this morning were the happiest times of her whole life and she’d just ruined it all. Swallowing hard, she lifted her fork.

Jolar kept up the conversation but she could scarcely manage a few mumbled replies. He told her a story about his first time on a Fleet patrol, how the captain had a special shuttle run made when he found out that the caf in food stores had gone moldy.

“Two things you don’t mess with,” Jolar said, standing at meal’s end. “Their pay and their caf. The Fleet will put up with just about anything else.”

He took her hand as they exited the Twin Suns. “Where to?”

Arissa avoided his gaze. “Back to our suite.”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully. “How about the Lightside casino? You didn’t get to go with them last night. We could try our luck at tongo.”

She pulled against his hold. “I want to go to our suite now.”

He sighed deeply. “Arissa, for gods’ sake, I’m just one man. You have to give me some time to recover before you take me back to bed.”

“Are you trying to be funny?” she burst out.

“Yes,” he said solemnly. “How am I doing?”

Hot tears stung her eyes.

“All right,” he said quietly. He led her out of the foot traffic and beside one of the fountains. Surrounded by greenery and the few benches nearby unoccupied it was a private spot in the middle of the busy deck.

He took her hands in his and leaned forward to look into her eyes. “You can’t let this throw you.”

“Jolar,” she whispered, “you saw what I did.”

“Yes. You helped a little boy who was in pain, a mother who was exhausted and a room full of people have a much more pleasant breakfast.”

Tears blurred her vision. “I gave myself away. If you hadn’t been there—”

“I
was
there,” he reminded. “I mean it, Arissa. You can’t ruminate on one misstep. It happened, we dealt with it, now we move on.”

“My kind of missteps hurt people.”

He shook his head gently. “You didn’t hurt anyone. You helped that boy and his mother. You
helped
.”

“But—but if I hadn’t said anything—”

“That poor kid would still be howling in pain. You think that would have been better?”

Arissa hesitated. “Of course I didn’t want him in pain.”

“So you did something about it.”

Arissa swallowed. “I shouldn’t have. I should have more control.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t have to shout,” he allowed. “And the colorful language might be something to phase out. I think it was more that you were trying to pretend like there was nothing wrong, trying to ignore a problem you knew damn well was happening.”

Arissa shifted her feet. “What do you mean?”

“Look, maybe instead of trying not to be a—what you are—maybe it’s time to
be
what you are.” His fingers intertwined with hers. “Sweet, the time for you to hide is over. Like it or not, you’re going to have to learn to live out here with the rest of us screwed-up people now. Put what you can do to good use. It’s that simple.”

“Jolar, it’s not that easy.”

He shook his head again. “I didn’t say easy. I said simple. You’ve spent your whole life fighting against what you are.” He rested his forehead against hers. “It’s time to learn how to make the most of it.”

She swallowed hard but his warm acceptance was impossible to resist. “By playing cards?”

“Yes, among other things.” He leaned down to kiss her; his mouth was light over hers then deepened. He broke away a little breathless. “Casino or activity center?”

“I don’t know how to play tongo,” she mumbled.

“Then we’re evenly matched because I don’t know how to play well.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Come on. Let’s lose some money.”