Authors: Rebecca York
Dark Warrior (22 page)
He gave her a regretful look. “Of course. I don’t mean to push you too fast. You need to rest. Let me show you to your room.”
To her relief, he stood up.
She also got to her feet and swayed for a moment on shaky legs. He reached out to steady her, then dropped his hand when she made a little motion to warn him away.
He looked at her with concern and pressed his lips together. When she was standing more firmly, he said, “This way.”
He led her back into the main part of the house, then down another hallway to what must be the bedroom wing. When he opened a door and gestured for her to step inside, she found herself in a room that was like something out of a seventeenth-century French château, with white and gold furniture, an heirloom Oriental rug, and a painting of cherubs and clouds on the ceiling. The bed was wide, with a brocade spread that matched the padded headboard and the drapes.
He crossed the patterned rug and opened another door, revealing a large dressing area with women’s clothing hanging on either side and a luxurious bath beyond.
As she eyed the wardrobe, he smiled. “I knew your size—and taste.”
“Oh,” she managed to say, wondering exactly how he had gotten the information and when he had done the ordering.
He stepped back into the bedroom and neatly folded down the spread. “You should lie down and rest. I’ll be in my office when you get up. It’s right down the hall from my bedroom, which is the next room over.”
Before she could comment, he left her alone, quietly closing the door.
She rushed over and made sure it wasn’t locked from the outside. Then she turned the knob on the inside, before walking to one of the windows and raising the sash, sighing with relief when she determined that she could easily get out of the room and that it was only a short drop to the ground.
But then what? In the car, she’d traveled through mile upon mile of brown hills with no sign of habitation. Where would she go if she could get off the estate?
RAFE
stood outside the bedroom door burning for the woman beyond the barrier. He’d heard her lock the door, but a flimsy lock wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to get inside.
stood outside the bedroom door burning for the woman beyond the barrier. He’d heard her lock the door, but a flimsy lock wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to get inside.
If he went in, he was sure he could persuade her to continue where they’d left off.
Too bad he knew in his heart that it was still the wrong course of action. He had to let her regain her strength, then make her think she was reaching out to him.
But it didn’t have to be entirely real. He knew how to make that happen.
Meanwhile, he could have the pleasure of crowing about his progress. Down the hall in his office, he picked up the phone, and dialed a familiar number.
“Hello,” a voice said on the other end of the line. The man was another Minot. Although Minot rarely worked together in the modern world, Rafe had decided he needed an ally if he was going to bring his plans to fruition. After checking out scores of his brethren, he’d decided that this guy was his best bet. He was older than Rafe, experienced in the ways of the world and also a sworn enemy of the Ionians because he believed they had ruined his life.
“It’s Rafe Garrison.”
“Why are you calling?” came the sharp retort.
Rafe ignored the annoyance in the other man’s voice. “As I told you I would, I have captured one of the Ionians.”
“Okay. You’ve managed that much.”
Although Rafe wanted this man’s help, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “You don’t sound too impressed.”
There was only silence on the other end of the line.
Rafe tried another approach. “You want to get even with them—for what they did to you.”
The response was instantaneous. “Yes.”
“Then come to my estate. I’m sure we can work out a plan to make the rest of them wish they’d never screwed with you.”
“I’ve stayed away from them for years. Why do you want to help me now?”
“Because I have a plan that will interest you.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“We can’t discuss it over the phone.”
“You really think you can just walk into their compound and do anything you want? They have safeguards you haven’t even thought about.”
“I got a man in there.”
“And the fire put them on guard.”
“You know about that?”
“Of course.”
“So you’re keeping track of them.”
“I don’t have to talk to you about my activities.”
Rafe sensed he was losing control of the conversation and felt his composure slipping. He’d better get off the phone before he said something he regretted. “Just give it some consideration and get back to me.”
“TELL
us what you’ve been hiding about yourself,” Sophia said in a hard voice.
us what you’ve been hiding about yourself,” Sophia said in a hard voice.
Jason had already tried to tell her silently as he’d carried her inside. Hadn’t she heard any of it? He’d have to say it all over again. In front of her sisters.
It wasn’t the way he wanted to have this conversation with her, but he knew he had no options.
When she moved off his lap, he clenched his fist. But she stayed on the couch near him.
Tension coursed through him, and not just because everybody in the room was watching them. He’d boldly said he would tell them about the curse, but now his mouth had turned dry.
He looked at the women staring at him. This was it. Either they believed what he had to say, or . . .
He didn’t want to examine the alternative, so he said, “You’ve forgotten a lot of things about us. And we’ve forgotten the same things about ourselves.”
“Are you implying you alone know something the rest of them don’t?” Eugenia asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because my parents dared to explore their heritage. Working together, they were able to uncover secrets that no one remembered. An Ionian and a Minot who can join forces have more power than either of them has alone.”
“Or you think they have,” Cynthia snapped.
Knowing he had to give them more information, Jason began to speak again. “The reason the Minot are so focused on the Ionians isn’t because they’re the descendants of the ancient warriors. They
are
the ancient warriors.”
are
the ancient warriors.”
As he’d expected, there were reactions of surprise and disbelief around the room. He was introducing a completely new idea, and one that had vast implications for the relationship between the Minot and the Ionians.
“Explain that,” Cynthia demanded.
“They were fierce warriors, but they became overconfident and got into trouble when they invaded Scythia. They thought they were going after a primitive people, but the Scythians were very advanced in the mental arts. They cursed the Minot.”
Cynthia glared at him. “Go on.”
“The curse was that they would be doomed to be reincarnated over and over with no hope of a satisfying life. Sometimes it would seem as though things were going to work out for them. But no matter how successful they were, it would always end in disaster. Then they’d be forced to start the cycle over again.”
“And the others don’t know this?” Cynthia asked in an even voice.
“No. They may have glimpses of their past lives—usually in dreams—but they don’t know what it all means. Not really.” He paused again. “I’ve dreamed of my former failures. It would be nice to think I made up those episodes, but I know that they’re my true history.”
“Like what?” Ophelia challenged.
“Like I was a knight in thirteenth-century France who became a lord with great wealth.” He dragged in a breath and let it out, wishing that he didn’t have to bare his soul to these haughty women, but he saw no alternative, so he kept speaking. “Just as I was about to marry the woman I loved, she died of the plague. Then I did, too. Another time I was a wealthy English industrialist. I’d done so well for myself, that I was expanding my business interests into America. I set sail on a grand new ocean liner—the
Titanic
. Unfortunately, I ended up going down with the ship.
Titanic
. Unfortunately, I ended up going down with the ship.
“In the seventeen hundreds, I was a fur trapper in what would now be Michigan. I was doing well until I was caught by a Native American tribe who thought I was poaching on their land. They roasted me alive over a fire.” He winced, remembering the pain. “I could go on, but you get the idea. No matter how hard we try, it never works out for us. And almost none of us knows why.”
He paused and looked around the room. “My parents thought they could break the cycle.”
“Why? The Minot didn’t even know the Ionians when they were cursed.”
“But the Ionians asked the Minot for help long ago, and when they did, a bond was formed between them.”
“It didn’t work out!” Cynthia snapped. “The Minot only wanted to dominate us.”
“No. Not just that. Neither group knew how to deal with it. The Minot are too proud to beg for help, and the Ionians are too sure their way is the only way. They aren’t willing to try anything that hasn’t been tested for centuries. So they each go on repeating the same mistakes over and over.”
“You’re fabricating this—to get yourself out of trouble. I notice it didn’t work out for your parents either,” Eugenia pointed out. “They’re both dead.”
He wanted to raise his voice as though he were talking to a child who refused to understand basic truths. Instead, he kept his tone even.
“Because the Ionians wouldn’t accept their relationship, and my mother couldn’t deal with the loss of her sisters. It finally killed her.”
“We only have your word for that.”
“I’m hoping I can change your thinking.” He looked around the room. “And it did work out for my parents, I believe. They’re both dead, and I’m sure their love broke the cycle of failure for my father. They’re together in the next life. And he’s finally at peace.”
Cynthia gave him a doubtful look. “Or you’ve made this whole thing up.”
“I could say, ‘believe what you want,’ but this is too important to let you simply dismiss it.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FOUR
OVER THE PAST few hours, Rafe had checked the monitor that gave a view of Tessa’s room. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
With a sense of tingling anticipation, he went into the locked closet in the dressing room that shared a wall with her bedroom.
In it was a tank of gas, a special mixture that he’d had made up, using an ancient formula that few people would recognize today. But he knew it was significant to the Ionians. When he’d researched the order, he’d found out that there was a crevice in the ground inside their temple. The high priestess or one of the others who was giving a prophecy would sit in a chair over that crack, breathing the vapors that wafted upward from deep in the earth.
The vapors had loosened the inhibitions of the priestess, allowing her to let her mind spin out into the universe and gather what it might. Maybe she saw the future, or maybe not. But the gas had an effect on her senses and her behavior, and he was sure it would have the effect he wanted on Tessa. He’d used something similar on Sophia in the desert, and it had made her respond to him.
He wasn’t going to drug Tessa into submission, the way he’d tried to do with Sophia on the road, but the gas would put her in a compliant mood so that she would accept him.
He listened to the almost undetectable hiss at the tank valve, then turned back to the monitor. Tessa had been lying still. As the drug took effect, she began to move around on the bed, stirring his senses as the covers slipped below her waist and he saw her breasts through the modest T-shirt she was wearing. The nipples were beaded, poking against the fabric, riveting his gaze.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d tried the gas himself ; it had a very pleasant, very freeing effect. Instead of pumping it out of the room, he simply turned off the gas jet, then took off his shirt, shoes, and socks.
He left on his jeans as he walked to the bedroom door, unlocked it with a quick twist of the knob, then closed the door behind him and walked to the bed.
Tessa must have sensed him standing there, because her eyes blinked open, and she looked at him with a mixture of emotions. Sleepy disorientation. Arousal. And uncertainty.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said as he sat down on the side of the bed, stroked back the blond hair that had fallen across her forehead, and kissed her gently there.
Her tongue flicked out and licked her lips. “I feel strange,” she whispered.
“Because you’re finally admitting that we belong together.”
“Did I? Or is this wrong? Am I making the worst mistake of my life?”
Her aching candor made his throat constrict.
“Last time you kissed me, I felt . . . a warning.”
“Do you hear warnings now?”
She shook her head.
He managed to speak in a soothing voice. “That’s good. Nothing is wrong that happens between two people—if they both want it. We’re halfway there. See how much I want you.”
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