Calm Before the Storm (10 page)

“We are beginning to feel rips in the
fabric of the universe. Realignment is close,” announced Cygnus to the
assembled Concordia members, the ruling council of the Eunomi Alliance. Eleven
pairs of eyes looked his way. The council members, all with grave expressions,
sat expectantly waiting for Cygnus, their leader, to elaborate.

They had come together in the great hall of
their capital on the planet Auriga where the Eunomi Alliance made its home.
Seated around a crystal table that swirled with ever-changing patterns of the
skies, they watched images flashing from the blue sky and white clouds of Earth
to the green-yellow sunsets of Lyra and the violent orange-purple of an
Ophiuchus winter storm.

The great hall itself was perched atop a
high peak overlooking the city of Magellania that lay sprawled below in all its
glory, a sparkling white alabaster carpet of spires and domes. The Aurigi
adored the skies and so built upward, each home a pinnacle that rose sharply in
reverence toward the source of their energy, the three suns that gazed down on
them, replenishing, sustaining and nourishing. A supply of never-ending warmth
and security, of treasured wiccani light magick that had so nearly been lost
during the upheavals of the last Realignment eight hundred years ago.

The great hall was open to the elements, a
circular structure of columns holding up a crystal glass roof that allowed the
council to soak up the warmth and enjoy the golden rays while the meeting was
in session. Today the mood was serious and the focus was on recent events that
indicated the beginning of the next Realignment. Reports of discord and dispute
were being relayed from all parts of the galaxy.

“There is disturbing news from Earth.
Current disputes are escalating. Our operatives report that truces are being
broken, old conflicts are resurfacing and the possibility of global warfare
erupting is now more than certain.” Cygnus’ voice was weary, heavy with regret.

“We have reached a critical moment,”
continued Sollarus, sitting to his left. “The Earth conflicts are not the only
ones escalating. Raids by Discordant rabble on Lyra have increased. There are
many refugees fleeing into the cities trying to escape their reach. Slavery and
poverty on Ophiuchus are at epidemic proportions and the Eridani are also on
the verge of a full-scale civil war.”

The mood around the table was somber. Each
of the council members having lived through previous Realignments knew that
their only hope lay in the search for and recognition of Esseni dualities.

“Do we have any news on the whereabouts of
Esseni potentials and whether they have manifested yet?” someone queried.

All eyes turned to Etanin, the controller
of Eunomi protectors whose job it was to ensure potential Esseni were shielded
from Discordant eyes. “We have news of an identified pairing that we have
recently made contact with.” She paused, her blue eyes narrowing unhappily.
“It’s not good news.”

“Have they manifested?” asked Tellurus, his
clear gray eyes concerned.

“They have made contact but we are not sure
yet how close they are,” replied Etanin in measured tones, belying the gravity
of her words. “There has been a complication.”

“The Discordants have found them also.” It
was a statement not a question. Rastaban had voiced what they had all been
thinking.

“What pairing is it and who is dealing with
the fallout?” questioned the tall blonde at Cygnus’s right hand. “Do we have a
warrior in place to counter the Discordants?”

Cygnus paused and looked at Terra. “We
believe it is War.” Immediately tension crackled in the air.

“So Peace is also revealed?” The question
was anxious.

“It appears so,” replied Cygnus, “and Cassiopeia
is shielding her with Merak.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Tellurus spoke the
words no doubt the whole council were at one in thinking. Terra laid her hand
over his. “Maybe not.” Terra spoke calmly. “Cassiopeia has a lot to prove.”
Tellurus turned to pierce her with his slate-gray eyes. “That is what worries
me,” he said.

Later, after the council had spent some
time debating their next moves, Tellurus drew Terra aside from the rest of the
gathering onto the balcony overlooking the Aurigan capital. They both gazed out
at the beauty of the city, considering again how lucky they had been to
preserve its beauty during the last Realignment eight hundred years ago.

At last Tellurus spoke. “It is not
forgotten how War was lost to the Discordants during the last Realignment.
Cassiopeia I know feels great regret and guilt.”

“Perhaps then she is best equipped to
stabilize the current situation,” came the cool reply.

“I hope so. The Balance needs it. Another
eight hundred years of instability is unthinkable.”

“I believe Cassiopeia will prevail. I have
been watching. So far the dualities are on track. She reported that the
Taijitus are in evidence and also that their auras are revealed, so the pairing
must have felt the connection.”

“That is good,” replied Tellurus cautiously,
“but even so we have been in this position before and lost out in the end. The
auras make it easier for the Discordants to recognize them and they can be very
persuasive recruiting to their cause. They prey on greed and power and the
worst elements of Earthani instinct. They can be hard to resist.”

Terra turned to him raising her clear-blue
eyes to his face. “Have faith in your daughter, Tellurus, she has a good heart
and good instincts. I know we can rely on her.”

Tellurus clasped Terra to his chest and
breathed in her scent. It warmed his heart. “Cassiopeia is so much like you,
Terra, loyal, strong and optimistic. If you say she will prevail, then I
believe you. I will always believe you.” Terra smiled sadly at her husband, her
beloved for the last three thousand years. “There is always hope,” she said
simply.

“I know, my love, but I can’t help but
wonder what will happen if we don’t win.” Tellurus posed the question that was
at the very heart of the Concordia’s mission.

Terra could only reply with honesty and a
shake of her head. “Pray to Gaia that we do win,” she said, “because if we do
not, the universe will rip itself apart.”

* * * * *

Cassi was frantic. She had not been able to
find Irina at the station after the terrorist attack so she had raced home
thinking she would find her there. But there was no sign of her and when Leo
called to ask if Irina had arrived home safely, alarm bells began to sound. She
contacted Merak, distraught. He reassured her to stay calm.

“We would have felt a rupture if one of the
dualities had been lost,” he said. “She’s still alive. I’ll get one of the
wiccani trackers to scry for her position. The auras are visible now so the
shielding is less impenetrable. Sibyl can probably manage it.”

Most wiccani, beings with the ability to
use light magick, their powers sourced from the sun and stars, were based on
Lyra and Auriga. However, there were a number like Sibyl who had settled on
Earth and as allies of the Eunomi often assisted in the hunt for Esseni using
their light magick to scry, trace and provide protection shielding.

“I’m sure Sibyl can but that’s why I’m
worried,” said Cassi. “It means the Discordants could find her too, and Bellor
has escaped. It’s not on the news yet but Leo told me what really happened.
What if he has already been corrupted by them? Leo said that Irina left to come
home but what if they already have her?”

“Then we do what we must,” replied Merak.

Cassi swallowed the knot of panic that sat
heavily in her throat, her worst fears rising. “I can’t lose another one,” she
whispered. “I just can’t.”

* * * * *

After his discussion with Abrasax, Tyr was
shown to a room by Rusalka. She made it clear that she’d be happy to stay if he
wanted her to, but Tyr had a lot to consider and needed to clear his head.
Besides, any thoughts of that kind were securely tied to a pair of amber eyes
and soft chocolate brown hair. Jesus! He’d had his pick of girls throwing
themselves at his celebrity status. And yeah! He’d taken them, lots of them.
But truth be told, he hadn’t wanted them. Not really. Not the way he wanted
her. Christ! Just thinking about her gave him a hard-on.

He pictured her alone and scared. The fact
that he barely knew her was immaterial. She was somehow connected to him and
the strength of that tie was such that Tyr knew instinctively that he would do
all in his power to make sure she came to no harm.

He knew that she was safe for now, having
listened to Abrasax’s recent proposal but he still wasn’t sure whether she was
an innocent pawn in all this or a complicit one. Still, at least he knew he
would see her tomorrow. Tyr spent the night unable to sleep, his thoughts
constantly drawn to Irina and her whereabouts. It took a major effort on his
part to focus his attention on other information that Abrasax had disclosed.

Apparently Abrasax owned a pendant that had
belonged to Tyr as a child. He remembered that it had been his only possession
for a while after he had been kicked out of his home by his drunken uncle and
left to roam the streets. It was something he had treasured and never sold. He
was never sure why he hadn’t taken that step. Selling it would have given him
cash he so desperately needed to survive. Instead he’d kept it, treasured it as
a reminder of his almost forgotten mother, the physical weight of it, a proof
of her past existence. Eventually it had been targeted and stolen from him one
night as he slept under the railway arches by one of the larger boys in the
gang, and Tyr remembered the devastation he had felt at its loss.

His fury had been such that when he’d found
out the name of the thief, his reaction had involved a bare-knuckled
confrontation with the boy. Tyr had conquered him even though the boy was twice
Tyr’s size. He had gained the vengeance he desired but not been able to reclaim
his treasure, the thief having already sold it. Tyr had been crushed to lose
his one and only connection to his dead mother.

Somehow his prized possession had ended up
with Abrasax, who told him the pendant was a symbol of an Esseni potential. It
was a spherical crystal pendant with two distinct chambers. One side of his was
red, the other clear. Abrasax had told him it was one of a pair before locking
it back in his safe. Tyr wanted it back.

Abrasax had then divulged that there was
another pendant, currently in the possession of a Eunomi sympathizer, Merak
Espenson, the lawyer whose firm Irina worked for. In fact, Irina was his
adopted daughter and the blonde lawyer, Cassiopeia Shedir, his niece. So it
appeared that this connection to Irina was not a coincidence. Abrasax wanted
the other pendant. He claimed it was essential for harnessing the power of
Esseni and needed to be out of Eunomi hands.

Tyr did not believe for a moment that
Abrasax had no other means than to use Tyr to get it back. However it seemed
that for whatever reason he wanted Tyr to use his links to Irina to steal back
the pendant for him. Tyr’s confusion over Irina had intensified even more. It
still looked like she was playing him, maybe not for Abrasax as he had
originally surmised, but for the Eunomi. According to Abrasax, they also wanted
his “essence” and would stoop to any means to get it.

Abrasax had then promised Tyr all sorts of
training as a Discordant warrior, a place within their army as a commander,
unimagined riches and power. Did he believe him?
I believe only in myself
.
Tyr knew without a shadow of doubt that everything Abrasax was doing was for
his own gain. He was an eight-foot-tall, yellow-eyed, scaly, smelly alien, for
fuck’s sake, and he was holding Melanie and Delora’s lives to ransom. For now,
Tyr decided he would go with the flow and if all went well, eventually get to
hear what the Eunomi had to say. Tomorrow he had a job to do and Irina was part
of that. His heart thumped, battering his sternum with the knowledge that he
would have to play it cool, and to pull off Abrasax’s plan, he would have to
play her.
Double bluff.

Irina had returned to the bedroom after
splashing her face, to find the screens switched off. She had then fallen
asleep on the red bed, having been brought food by a brawny individual who
placed it on the table and left without saying a word. She was exhausted. The
events of the day came crashing down on her, an oppressive weight on her
shoulders. Tyr Bellor was not a man she could trust. The station had been
attacked and people had died! She had been kidnapped and kept prisoner.

Oh and not to mention, Tyr Bellor was a
betraying bastard.

It was now morning and Irina had awoken to
find clean clothes on the end of her bed along with a breakfast of croissants,
orange juice and coffee. Well, at least she wouldn’t starve. She didn’t
particularly want to stay dressed in the dirty skirt and blouse that had been
through an explosion, so she changed into the skin-tight jeans and fitted black
shirt they had left, curious but also faintly embarrassed that Abrasax knew her
size.

The door opened and the brawny individual
motioned her toward the door. He spoke no words but Irina again caught a
glimpse of yellow in his eyes, reminding her of Shax and the man in the car
from the day before. There was something very
inhuman
about the way they
looked. Something she’d never noticed about Shax until now.

She had no choice but to follow and wasn’t
surprised to find herself entering the very room she had been watching on the
screen the night before. Abrasax was sitting at his desk. She felt a crackle of
static energy again and knew without doubt that Tyr was also present. And there
he was, hands in pockets by the balcony window, watching, his hawklike black
gaze, challenging her with its intensity. Oh yeah and there was ”Miss Drape all
over the furniture”, doing what she did best, lounging on the sofa, eyeing her
venomously.
Gee, can this day get any better?

“Miss Columba!” Abrasax drawled stalking
toward her. “I must apologize for my lack of hospitality in not greeting you
last night. After my man rescued you yesterday from that unfortunate incident,
you passed out, so I thought it best to let you sleep. I do hope you are
recovered?” He took one of her hands and patted it sanctimoniously.

Irina tried to hide the shudder as her skin
crawled. So that was his game. Pretend. Well she had always been good at
fantasizing.
Case in point: stupid daydreams of betraying bastard in corner
.
The energy she had tried to deny was still there, simmering between them and
she cursed herself for a fool that hope still had a grip on her heart.

The betraying bastard, much to her disgust, which was
directed more at herself than him, was looking insanely gorgeous this morning.
Out of prison sweats, Tyr was a vision of masculine perfection in black jeans
and black V-neck sweater that only accentuated the carved flawlessness of his
broad chest. He looked so irritatingly handsome, with tousled black locks
hanging lazily around his cheeks, having perfected such a
just-out-of-bed vibe that it was all Irina could do not to walk over there and
run her fingers through the silky strands.

As if she were reading Irina’s mind, the
furniture whore did exactly that, slinking across the room to put her hands on
his pecs while brushing the straying locks from his brow. “And how are we after
last night, lover?” she purred in sultry tones, watching Irina for a reaction
as she spoke. Tyr brought her wrists together and pushed them down by her side.

“I slept extremely well, if that’s what you
were asking,” he replied coolly.

“Do you mean after I left?” she dragged a
sharp fingernail slowly under his chin then turned away, giving Irina a sly
smile of triumph.

“Now, now, Rusalka,” interrupted Abrasax.
“I’m sure Miss Columba is not interested in your night-time activities and
would prefer some time to catch up with Mr. Bellor.”

“I would prefer to go home if that’s okay,”
said Irina, the coolness of her voice dripping icicles. Abrasax clasped his
hands together in a gesture of helplessness. “I fear you will have to continue
to accept my hospitality for a while longer, Miss Columba. You see, Tyr needs
to lie low for a while and as his lawyer we need you to help him with a
statement. You will accompany him to one of my estates to see if you can work
something out.”

Irina was aghast. “You do realize this is
kidnapping?”

“I prefer to call it protection,” replied
Abrasax smoothly. “Your cooperation is much appreciated and I’m sure your
friend, Cassiopeia will be happier if you are out of harm’s way. There are many
dangers in these unsettled times. We would not want anything to happen to
you…or her for that matter.” Abrasax paused, letting his words sink in. Irina
couldn’t hide her fears, his satisfied smile making it obvious he knew she
understood the implicit threat. He signaled to Rusalka. “Escort our guests up
to the roof. Their transport is waiting.”

“Are you just going to stand there and let
this happen?” Irina turned and glared angrily at Tyr.

“Why shouldn’t I?” he asked, and a cold
feeling of dread washed through her bones as Tyr stood impassive before her.
That lingering remnant of hope that she had been mistaken as to his allegiance
crumbled under the weight of his chilly reply. He truly was the criminal she
had tried to convince herself he was not.

Turning away from her, he followed the
furniture whore without a glance or any kind of reassurance, his manner icy—so
different from the warmth of emotion he had displayed toward her at the
station. He was obviously a good liar but he was the lesser of two evils at the
moment. Abrasax made her skin crawl. There was something very disturbing in the
way he was looking at her. Irina had no option but to follow Tyr up to the
awaiting transport, her heart heavy with fear for Cassi and the implied threats
Abrasax had made. She had already lost her blood family. If anything happened
to Merak or Cassi because of her, she would never forgive herself.

When Rusalka returned, Abrasax had his feet
up on the desk, cigar in hand. Things were going well and he could afford some
time to relax. She blinked curiously at him, hitching herself up onto the desk
in front of him. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to send the Esseni pair off
with each other? We don’t want them to get too friendly with each other. You
seem to be forcing them together rather than pushing them apart.”

“The seeds of discord are sown, my pet,” he
replied smiling to himself. “I believe they both have little trust in the other
and what with your display, top marks for that by the way, emotions are running
high. He is unsure of her loyalties and we have some insurance that Tyr wants
to keep alive. An added bonus, as always, is their ignorance. The Eunomi will
not fully acquaint them with the truth so that their relationship runs a
natural course. That will be their downfall. We just have to continue to drive
in the wedges of suspicion, greed and jealousy. Eventually one or other will
turn to our cause betraying the other in the process.”

“And what will happen to the other?”

“As always, the other will die. Does that
make you happy?” Abrasax watched Rusalka run her hands over her breasts,
arching her back across the desk in front of him.

“Only if it’s War who survives. He is
rather luscious,” she mused. “I do so hope we can bring him over to the dark
side.”

* * * * *

Strapped into the helicopter, sitting
opposite Irina, whose expression was one of extreme hostility, Tyr had to admit
to himself that if this was an act, then she was a very good actress. He
studied her profile as she sat rigid, arms across her chest, brows furrowed,
gazing out of the window. She was breathtaking, the early morning rays,
reflecting in the liquid gold of her extraordinary eyes. A faint blush of color
tinged the creamy softness of her cheek and her full lips caught the attention
of his wayward friend as he drank in the beauty of her skin. He adjusted his
position trying to hide the rock in his jeans
. Mile-high club, anyone?

The static buzz he always felt in her
presence was still there but muted. He instinctively knew she was blocking it.
The thread that bound her to him had receded back across a gaping chasm. Well,
he didn’t know what this thing was between them or even if he could trust her,
but he couldn’t shake the urge that drew him to Irina, as if he were a
satellite in motion tied perpetually in orbit around her blazing sun. His
strategy was clear. He decided to continue where they had left off.

“I thought I told you stay where you were,”
he said at last.

“What makes you think you’re the boss of
me?” she replied, half shouting against the noise of the helicopter’s rotator
blades. Irina turned to face him, lips drawn tight in anger. “And what do you
care if I’ve been kidnapped and held against my will? You seem pretty
comfortable with your buddy Abrasax, oh, and your girlfriend with the whiny
voice and bad taste in clothes.”

“Are you jealous?” asked Tyr, again going
straight for the jugular. “You are, aren’t you? Don’t be. I’m not involved with
her in any way, shape or form.” He smiled at her response. She wouldn’t be
showing her claws if she were indifferent, would she?

A storm of furious emotions played across
her beautiful face. “I couldn’t care less!” she snapped clenching her fists.
“Whatever the two of you got up to last night is none of my business.”

“Your expression and body language are
completely contradicting your words,” said Tyr, ever direct. “You can’t ignore
this thing between us.” Needing to emphasize the connection, he reached for her
whitened knuckles, prying them apart so his hands pressed into her palm. She
allowed his touch for a moment then pulled away. He saw her swallow a knot of
panic and wondered if she had felt the same electrical pulse he had. Then she
was shaking her head and leaning forward, her eyes locked on his, her words
deliberate.

“There is nothing between us. Any slight
feelings I had before disintegrated the minute I found out that you are
involved with a gang of murderers.”

Tyr realized the direction of her thoughts.
His need for her to understand the reality was intense. He grabbed her hands
again to pull her closer. “Irina, listen, I have no option but to play along. I
did
not
kill Sal. Abrasax did. And I need to find out why so I can clear
my name.”

She closed her eyes, clearly fighting the
conviction in his tone, and struggled to get her hands loose. Tyr held on, his
grip too strong. “Don’t worry,” she said bitingly, “I heard all that last night
as I watched your little chat with him from the room they threw me in. In fact
I saw and heard quite a lot of things, Tyr, like how you said couldn’t care
less what he did to me, before letting that tramp run her hands all over you.”

Tyr thought back to that conversation and
considered what she may have heard. He understood now. Abrasax was certainly
covering all bases.
Divide and rule
.

“Now I know you’re jealous.” Tyr smiled
triumphantly. “Believe me, I said that to keep you safe. If they thought you
were important to me in any way then Abrasax would use it as leverage, could
use
you
as leverage against me. I don’t want to see you hurt, Irina.
That’s the last thing I want.”

He stopped talking willing his words sink
in and hoping his logic would make sense to her. His need for her to understand
was overwhelming. “Okay…” she said carefully. “Say I choose to believe you, not
that I have many options here, what exactly is your plan? Are we just going to
Abrasax’s lair like lemmings and let him play with us like we’re food?”

Tyr relaxed now sensing her emotions had
calmed, relieved that she had stopped fighting him. It staggered him to realize
just how much he wanted her trust. The connection intensified, a silver thread,
weaving its way back across the chasm. He understood her caution. She was
genuinely pissed off over Rusalka and his involvement with Abrasax, but there
was something deeper hidden behind her words, an underlying fear that she
wasn’t ready to reveal to him. He knew that what she had heard last night was
only the things Abrasax wanted her to hear. As yet he couldn’t tell her everything
and he needed her to find a way into Eunomi circles. She was his “in” with
Merak. He also wanted to kiss her. Badly.

Her closeness, the scent of her hair and
the defiant sparkle in her eyes were all conspiring to elicit strange stirrings
in his body. The electrical current that ran between them was firing a burning
in his veins that insisted on contact. His hands moved from her wrists to cup
her face. “I have a plan,” he murmured, his forehead pressed to hers, “but
first I need to do this.” He leaned in slowly, pressing his lips to hers in a
searing fusion that sent the blood racing around his body, an out-of-control
torrent that threatened to drag him in its wake.

Tyr had kissed many women since becoming
famous but experienced as he was, kissing Irina was a revelation. Once his
mouth found hers, he was lost, savoring her sweet cherry taste that made his
head spin and his pulse skyrocket. Of course, his wayward friend perked up.

Irina had never experienced such a kiss in
her whole life. His mouth hard against hers, gently probing, teasing her lips
apart as his tongue flicked inside, challenging her to a duel. It was nothing
like the kiss they had shared at the station. That kiss had been a whisper, a
promise, a featherlike caress of possibility. This…this was an explosion that
threatened to consume. No thought of resistance, a fire burst into life in her
chest, her heart speeding up to outrun the flames that licked through her veins
like a fuse on its way to ignite a bomb. She had no control. He claimed he was
trying to protect her and when she glimpsed the hot intensity burning in his
eyes, she found it hard to believe he was lying. It was so hard to fight
against the tidal wave that was Tyr, the force of his presence a storm breaking
over her resistance and shattering the steel of her resolve.
I’m so easy.
Giving
in to the onslaught of his mouth, Irina surrendered to the kiss, her arms
rising up of their own accord to grasp him around the neck. As she found
herself inching closer, his hands roamed up her spine, imprinting her flesh
with the memory of his touch even through the fabric of her shirt. His hands
began to pull her forward but her body jerked suddenly as the safety belts held
her in place.