Read The Seer (Tellaran Series) Online

Authors: Ariel MacArran

The Seer (Tellaran Series) (17 page)

BOOK: The Seer (Tellaran Series)
11.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Arissa turned to offer her apology and blinked. “Oh, hi.”

Kemma smiled. “Arissa, hello.”

“Kemma, I’m sorry I—” Arissa began but Kemma waved it off.

“It’s crazy crowded here. Lian,” she said, reaching out to touch her protector’s shoulder. “You remember Arissa?”

Lian’s face lit with recognition. “Of course. How are you?”

“Arissa was on the
Queen’s Light
with us,” Kemma explained the man they had been conversing with. “Arissa, this is Danlen Mirat.”

Arissa’s breath caught then instantly she smiled.

But not quickly enough.

“Do I know you?” Danlen asked, his words still bearing the echo of his Gensoyan heritage, his silver hair bright under the party laterns’ light.

He was confident to the point of arrogance and hardened but within him there was softness for something or someone he cared deeply about. He was puzzled by her reaction, and guarded.

Arissa cleared her throat. “Oh, I think I heard my husband mention your name.”

“I know your husband?”

Danlen’s hazel eyes were narrowed but she sensed he’d judged
her
too naïve, too young to be threatening.

Arissa gave a half-shrug, hoping to look even more girlishly artless. “I’m afraid I wasn’t really paying attention. But he’s over at the bar and I’m headed that way now. Even if you don’t know one another,” she nodded toward his nearly empty glass, “you could get a fresh drink.”

A young woman—the worse for wine and sadly lacking any skill—stood on a nearby sofa to regale her fellow guests by singing a popular tune.

“Sounds good to me,” Lian agreed raising his voice to be heard over the singer. “I just realized I’m parched.”

Kemma’s sense thrummed for a moment and she threw an exasperated look at the would-be songbird even as the woman’s embarrassed friends sought to coax her down. “I hope it’s less crowded there.”

It wasn’t; if anything it was more so, but Jolar’s height made him easy to find.

“Arissa,” he said, his expression echoing the relieved unwinding of his sense. “I was getting worried.”

Sorry. It’s not easy to get around in here. Look who I ran into,” she added quickly. “Kemma and Lian. And this is their friend, Danlen Mirat.”

Jolar’s smile hid shocked awareness.

“Your wife thought I might know you,” Danlen said.

Arissa threw her focus at Danlen, probing as the man’s glance went over Jolar’s face.

Jolar’s brilliant smile didn’t waver. “Do you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Arissa caught Jolar’s gaze. “I guess you
don’t
know each other.” She gave Danlen a smile. “Master Mirat, this is my husband, Jolar Legan.”

Danlen offered his hand. “A pleasure.”

Jolar clasped it. “Good to meet you.”

“I promised them all a drink.” Arissa eyed the crowd in front of the bar. “But it looks like we’re in for a wait.”

“Yeah,” Jolar said. “The party’s really picked up.”

“And a fresh one sounds good right about now. If you’ll excuse me,” Danlen said, with a nod at them he took up a place in the line.

“Arissa? Do you want a drink?” Jolar asked.

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted right now was her head clouded.

“Kemma, what about you?” Lian asked. 

“I’ll sip on yours,” Kemma said. She put her hand on Arissa’s arm to draw her along. “Meet us outside, we’re going to get crushed standing here.”

Arissa reached out to touch Danlen’s mind but couldn’t sense any suspicion or threat there.

“We’ll stick close to the door so you can find us,” Arissa promised with a smile at Jolar. She gave a quick meaningful look in Danlen’s direction. “I know you might have to wait a while.”

She sensed Jolar, too, knew this to be a perfect opportunity to strike up a conversation with Danlen. He gave her a nod and Arissa let Kemma lead her outside.

“So how do you know Danlen?” Arissa asked as they stepped out into the patio.

Kemma shrugged. “I don’t. He and Lian just struck up a conversation about the darshball playoffs. Lema verses Gensoy, that sort of thing. How do you know him?” Kemma asked, her green eyes sharp. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he bought that you didn’t.”

Arissa bit the inside of her cheek. “Jolar is here to select the Fleet’s next crystal supplier. Danlen was mentioned as a possibility for the contract.”

Kemma gave a knowing smile. “And so Jolar was looking to meet him, right?”

Arissa winced. “I guess could have done that better.”

Kemma gave a soft laugh. “No, it went fine. When Lian’s here on business I spend a lot of my time trying to charm his contacts. Of course being a charming companion is my business.” Kemma rubbed her arms. “It’s too hot in there, it’s too cold out here. You know,” she said, suddenly brightening. “We should leave them to charming their own contacts for once and do something fun.”

“Like what?”

“Like shopping in Tano-Sertar. What do you say?”

“Jolar says the city is very dangerous.”

“Well, we wouldn’t be hanging around the spaceport pawn shops,” Kemma returned with a laugh. “We’d stick boutiques and shops of the upper city.”

Arissa smiled. “I’d love to go.”

“Absolutely fucking
not!

Sitting on the edge of the bed and still dressed in the gown she’d worn to the party, Arissa dropped her heels to the floor then gratefully pointed and flexed her aching feet. “Jolar, you told me to be obvious about living beyond our means. Aren’t I supposed to act frivolous and spoiled?”

Arissa found the quiet and privacy of their suite at Bruscan’s house a welcome balm to her overtaxed Seer’s senses. Done in serene blues and warm creams their second floor suite was larger than the central living space of the house she had grown up in. The bed she sat on was curtained, the swathes of creamy fabric drawn back dramatically to reveal the wide bed with its many overfilled pillows. The doors of their private balcony were closed against the chill night air and the suite consisted of a combination bed and sitting room, as well as private dressing and bathroom beyond.

“You are
not
going alone into Tano!”

“I wouldn’t be alone,” she pointed out. “I’m going with Kemma.”

“Right,” he snapped. The formal shirt he’d worn tonight hung half unfastened, his face flushed and angry. “A Niman Ornament who just happens to know one of the most powerful crystal refiners on Sertar, a man we’ve come to investigate. A man who may be responsible for multiple murders.
Perfectly
safe!”

“She
doesn’t
know him. They just bumped into each other at the party.”

“You don’t really believe that?”

“It’s true!”

Jolar’s nostrils flared. “How can you—” He broke off but his mind still buzzed with worry. “Are you sure? Positive she doesn’t know him?”

“I’m sure. She met him only a few minutes before I did.” How could he not understand how much this meant to her? “You could send a guard with me.”

“Why are you so eager to do this, anyway? You didn’t seem all that enthusiastic about shopping on the ship. What’s Tano got that has you so set on going?”

Arissa dropped her gaze. “It’s not the shopping,” she mumbled. “It’s that she asked me to go. I’ve never done that. Spent an afternoon with someone my age. Had a girlfriend.”

Jolar softened. “I never thought of that.” He sat down on the bed beside her to gather her against him and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Of course you should go, sweet.” Arissa gave him a quick smile and his blue eyes went stern. “And hell yes, I’m sending guards with you.”

Guards?
As in plural? The hard set of his mind showed now was not the time to argue though.

“What happened with Danlen? Did you get to talk to him at all?”

“Some,” Jolar said. “He showed little interest in the contract, which is in itself strange. I wish you’d been there to tell me what was really going on in his head. I want you there next time I meet with him.”

She bit her lip. “Sorry about that, I thought I’d have more time with him. I didn’t think he’d leave the party so soon. I know it isn’t much but— remember what Bruscan said about vulnerabilities? Danlen’s got something he cares about. I don’t know what but there’s
some
softness within him. Still I don’t bet many would think to cross him.” She swallowed. “Better to cross him than Larner though.”

“Why?” He rubbed her back. “Not that the man didn’t give me the creeps but I was wondering what you sensed.”

“He’s extremely intelligent—dispassionately so. Like he could slice someone apart and feel nothing more than detached curiosity while they screamed.” She shuddered. “Danlen you could bargain with, he has enough heart that he might be moved but Larner? No.”

“And his expressions,” Jolar said. “So . . .”

“Rehearsed,” Arissa supplied.

“A snake pit,” Jolar muttered, his expression troubled. But then he gave her a half-smile. He drew her closer and brushed a kiss across her mouth. “That Niman beach is sounding better and better.”

She smiled. “So we’ll go there and then you want to take me to Zartan?”

“I want to take you everywhere,” he murmured and his mouth quirked upward.

He hooked the straps of her evening gown with his fingers and slid them down over her shoulders. His thumb traced the peak of her breast as he eased the gown off, the nipple pebbling under his touch.

He urged her back to lie in the center of the bed and his voice became husky. “But I have a particular image in mind of you under the Niman moons, lying back on a blanket in the sand, open and ready for me.”

“It may be a while before we get to Nima,” she said breathlessly as his mouth moved lower.

“Well then.” She felt him smile against the skin of her chest, his palm against the inside of her thigh to spread her wider. “I guess I have time to get some practice in . . .”

 

Seventeen

 

Any enjoyment Arissa might have had riding to her first-ever afternoon of shopping with a friend was obliterated by the two granite-faced guards in crisp gray uniforms seated across from her in Bruscan’s groundcar.

She was tempted to ditch them. It wouldn’t take much effort now, thanks to the practicing Jolar had forced on her, a moment’s inattention or redirection and she’d slip away.

But she sure wouldn’t look forward to facing Jolar later. And she didn’t think the guards would either.

In stark contrast to the other crime-ridden areas they’d sped through, this part of the city was clearly affluent. No chemical-seeking vagrants with reddened, hooded eyes sullied
this
section of the city and SerSec officers had a visible presence. If it was duracrete under her feet, it had been disguised to look like Novician marble; if not, then the expense just of the pavement here was staggering. Greenery was pleasantly scattered about and every surface was sparklingly clean but there was not so much as bench or surface to be leaned on. The intent, no doubt, was to force shoppers to rest tired feet in one of the many eateries. 

Patrons strolling here were as well dressed as the holoforms in the shop windows they walked past. Even in a shopping district meant to cater to the affluent, Arissa was not the only one with her own private security escort.

Arissa made it a little early to the agreed upon meeting place at one of the many lavish fountains to see Kemma already there.

“Hi—” Kemma’s enthusiastic tone changed as she took in the uniformed men. “Arissa.”

Arissa’s face warmed. She was the only one in the plaza accompanied by more than one guard and Kemma didn’t have any at all. “Sorry. Jolar insisted.”

Kemma looked past her and the uniformed guards and her frown deepened. “I think there are two other—”

“Yeah.” In a wealthy commercial area like this having two guards was already overkill—four was absurd. “They’re guarding me too.”

“Will they at least carry our purchases?” Kemma asked, raising her eyebrows.

Her guard gave a scowl and a sharp headshake.

Arissa shifted her feet. “I understand if you don’t want to—”

Kemma held up a hand. “Oh, no. We’re shopping.” With a mischievous grin she nodded toward the nearest store. “Come on, boys!”

Mortified despite their stoic expressions, the guards followed Kemma and Arissa into the lingerie boutique.

Kemma held a yellow shimmersilk nightgown against her body. “Ooo,” she cooed, sticking her fingers through the slashed openings of the breast cups. “I like this one. Luckily for me, as an Ornament, I can write off all
sorts
of expenses.”

Red-faced and aware they were also garnering glares from other female shop patrons, the men quickly ceded to Arissa’s request that they wait outside.

“Thank you,” Arissa said as the guards left. “I’m really sorry they’re tagging along.”

Kemma waved it off. “Oh, it’s fine.” Kemma held up another gown of pale blue without the slashed cups. “Besides it’s really sweet that your husband is so protective of you.”

Arissa’s face warmed. “Yes, I uh . . .”

Kemma threw her an amused look. “Ornaments revere Arrena. We like to see the Goddess of Love make a happy marriage. Hey, maybe Jolar won’t mind me taking you shopping if you come home with this?” Kemma held up a red shimmersilk gown with a slit up the leg. “Let’s get a couple of fitting rooms.”

Arissa bought the gown and, at Kemma’s urging, the matching robe. Kemma had an armful of lingerie by the time they were finished. So high was the pile that Arissa wondered if she really were able to write them off.

The only thing Kemma seemed to like better than shopping for clothing was purchasing footwear and Arissa sank gratefully into her chair when they finally stopped for lunch.

The café was high ceilinged and decorated in the ornate, opulent style of the late royal period, the walls were covered in yellow watered shimmersilk, the furniture dark and heavily carved. Uniformed servers moved smoothly between tables as Apovian string melodies floated down over the diners.

The busy restaurant was
à la carte
only and scanning the selections hungrily Arissa was now very grateful that Jolar encouraged her to spend as she wished—lunch was going to cost a fortune.

A young man and a richly dressed woman—likely twice his age—sat dining in an alcove nearby. Kemma and the young man had exchanged discreet, professional glances as she and Arissa were seated and Arissa understood immediately that this young man was an Ornament too.

Certainly he was strikingly handsome—tall and broad-shouldered with black hair, and startling amber eyes. His attentions were smoothly done but the set of the woman’s shoulders was taut and her eyes flicked about, self-consciousness at having a young, handsome—and paid—companion. Arissa winced inwardly. Deeply in love, this young man felt it keenly that his sincere attempts at wooing were being dismissed by his patron as just the consummate skill of a professional companion.

They sipped on icy fruit drinks and when the food arrived, Arissa flushed to see her order filled most of the table while Kemma was only dining on salad.

Just then, a woman, her soft blue dress draping elegantly around her pregnant belly walked by the window, smiling down at the little girl at her side. The child was neatly dressed in a quilted jacket and skirt and her hair—the same golden brown as her mother’s—was woven into pinned up braids.

The warm look in the woman’s eyes, the way the little girl’s hand was tucked lovingly in hers made Arissa think of her own mother. It also sent a sudden longing for a child of her own through her chest.

A child with vivid blue eyes . . .

“Kemma, did you ever want to get married instead of, uh…” Arissa blurted then blushed at having asked such an artless question.

“Believe it or not, I love what I do,” Kemma answered with a smile.

“I believe it,” Arissa protested. The young man’s patron pulled her hand from his, and his expression was crestfallen. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Kemma raised an eyebrow. “You have an interesting attitude for a respectably married woman. I had the feeling your husband disapproved of you spending time with me. Perhaps he’s worried I’ll talk you into a career change.”

Arissa hesitated but she couldn’t see any harm in it. “I seriously considered becoming an Ornament. Before I was married.”

“Wow,” Kemma said, pausing with the fork halfway to her mouth. “Sorry, I don’t get surprised often but that just about floored me.”

Arissa gave an embarrassed shrug. Kemma was a stunning woman of obvious sensuality and beautifully dressed every time Arissa had seen her. “I’m probably not the type for it, right?”

“Actually, I think you would be an astonishingly successful Ornament.” Kemma shifted a bit to allow the server to refill her glass. “Let me know if you decide to, I’ll sponsor you for training.”

“What’s it like?” Arissa asked. “Being an Ornament?”

“Well,” Kemma took a sip of water, considering. “I went the full route with three years of training in Arrena’s temple in Laku-Nima. I was courted by a number of men who wanted to be my protector when I joined the Ornaments’ Guild. Signing an exclusive contract with a protector is not that different than a marriage really, except it’s only for a limited time.”

“And you don’t get attached?”

“No,” Kemma said softly. “That’s where you’re wrong. Perhaps the streetwalkers who do nothing more than make a man spill his seed are like that. I’ve had only a handful of protectors and I’ve loved every one of them.”

Arissa looked away.

Kemma gave her a puzzled look. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Arissa mumbled. “It’s none of my business.”

“Oh,” Kemma said softly, leaning her elbows on the table. “Well, then it’s either about Lian being married or me agreeing to be his shadow consort. Go ahead and ask,” Kemma said without rancor. “Do I feel guilty about being the paid companion of a married man? How can I keep him from her and live with myself? What is it?”

“Do you ever want to marry Lian?” Lately she’d caught herself more and more imagining a life with Jolar, but no telepath had a future. She was superstitious about even dreaming of one. “Is it enough to be with him for now?”

“You
are
surprising, Arissa.” Kemma gave a half smile. “Believe it or not, I struggled with that. And yes, it’s usually enough but sometimes . . . sometimes it’s hard. And yes, sometimes I feel guilty because he’s married even though it hasn’t been a real marriage for a long, long time. She knows all about me and couldn’t care less. Be grateful for what you and your husband have. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so in love.” Kemma tilted her head, her hands wrapped around her water glass, a frown touching her brow. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because everything’s so new.” Arissa’s stomach clenched when she realized how she’d slipped. “I mean, having him home. He just left the Fleet a few months ago.”

Kemma shrugged. “Well, it’ll work itself out. Give it time.”

They window-shopped through the jewelry district. Arissa couldn’t face the cost enough even to go inside but she was surprised that Kemma didn’t seem interested in doing more than looking either.

Kemma stopped at one window display and gave a low whistle. “Astuk crystal necklace. Now
that’s
nice.”

“They’re beautiful stones,” Arissa agreed. The gems shimmered in rainbow colors under the shops’ lights. “But why make a necklace out of them? They must be worth a fortune as a power source.”

“Not those,” Kemma said. “If they’ve made jewelry out of them, they’ve got a fatal flaw of some kind. They’d just shatter in the converter.”

“I didn’t know it was possible to detect a flaw
before
it shattered.”

“Sometimes you can. One of my protectors was a dealer on Gensoy, he was always trying out new tests to better weed out the flawed ones.” She eyed the necklace. “Pretty though.”

“Maybe Lian will buy it for you.”

Kemma threw her a smile. “Lian’s a lot of things but insanely, obscenely wealthy is
not
one of them. And to be vulgar, I’d rather have the same money in nice comfy investments yielding fourteen per cent then a sparkly necklace worth a tenth of the price he paid for it. The Ornaments’ Guild retirement package is less than impressive.”

“I’ll take that as a complement. I mean,” Arissa said, flushing at Kemma’s puzzled look. “You probably don’t talk so, uh, vulgarly to most people.”

Kemma smiled. “No, you’re right. Just friends.”

Warmth spread through Arissa’s chest and she smiled back.

She sighed when the guard reminded her that the car would be coming shortly to take her back and despite the man’s scowl, she offered Kemma, who was ready to hale a hired car, a ride home.

Kemma’s purchases were packed around her legs and Arissa’s few rested in her lap. The guards riding with them in the groundcar hindered conversation but Lian’s rented house was not far from Bruscan’s home. One look at the house and Arissa wondered what Kemma
would
consider insanely wealthy, if this were not it.

Lian came out to help Kemma with her purchases. “Another successful hunt I see?”

“I bought you something special in pale blue,” Kemma said, her dimple showing.

Lian laughed. “I’m guessing I won’t be the one wearing it. What about you Arissa?” He glanced at her small haul. “Did Kemma outpace you or are the rest up with the driver?”

“This is all I managed,” Arissa said.

“She’s new at this,” Kemma said. “But I’ll get her up to speed eventually.”

“You and your husband should join us for dinner some night,” Lian said.

“Maybe that Leman restaurant in the middle city?” Kemma suggested. “It’s supposed to be divine.” She gave Lian a sly smile. “As are all things Leman.”

He laughed again. “So true.”

“Excuse me,” one of the guards—the tall one—said. “We’re due back at Mr. Milin’s shortly.”

Arissa threw him an annoyed look but Lian and Kemma stepped back.

“I’ll give you a call in a few days,” Kemma promised as the guard shut Arissa’s door.

BOOK: The Seer (Tellaran Series)
11.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Rocky Mountain Company by Wheeler, Richard S.
The Red Dahlia by Lynda La Plante
My Father's Rifle by Hiner Saleem
The Billionaire Bum by Samantha Blair
Reporting Under Fire by Kerrie Logan Hollihan
Love After War by Cheris Hodges
Vestido de Noiva by Nelson Rodrigues
The Beach House by Georgia Bockoven


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024