Beyond Ontariese Part 2: Box Set, #2

By Cyndi Friberg

Mystic Flame: Determined to recover a priceless journal, Dro Tar pursues Evan to Las Vegas. Evan insists he took the journal to protect it from the real thieves. Dro Tar isn't sure what to believe. Her heart has yet to recover from the last time she tangled with the enigmatic Mystic. She wanted him then and she wants him now, but what's his true motivation?

Evan has never stopped loving Dro Tar, but her willingness to believe he's a coward cut him deeply. Now fate has brought them back together and he intends to take full advantage of the opportunity. He'll seduce her slowly, rediscover every inch of her supple body as he reminds her why they originally fell in love. Only by resolving their past can they vanquish their enemies and secure a future together.

Fire Pearl: Lord Drakkin promises his dying friend that he will protect and train Aria. He will unleash her latent abilities and help her reach her Mystic potential. But first he must find her. After tracking Aria to Earth, Drakkin quickly realizes it's too dangerous to leave her there. He is shocked by her resistance and the passion she ignites in him. He is honor bound to keep his vow, with or without her cooperation.

After years of abuse and isolation, Aria has found a life of her own. Then Drakkin sweeps in and kidnaps her, claiming his bizarre behavior is for her own good. Despite the attraction smoldering between them, she wants nothing to do with the arrogant Bilarrian. No one will ever control her again, not even the charismatic stranger who sends her senses reeling every time they touch.

Consort (Series Finale): With one consuming kiss, King Indric of San Adrin convinces Cinarra that he will no longer tolerate being only her protector and trusted friend. Cinarra has longed for the day when the handsome Bilarrian will see her as more than an obligation, but she harbors secrets that could destroy their love before it even has a chance to exist.

Indric has always put the needs of his people before his own happiness. Duty and honor have kept him from claiming Cinarra, then an assassination attempt brings everything into sharper focus. Cinarra is his one true mate and he will not rest until she surrenders to their mutual desire and agrees to be his beloved consort.

Two powerful enemies have joined forces; their common goal to destroy Indric. No risk is too great and no sacrifice too dear. And anyone Indric loves is a potential target for their treachery.

Like to know how the saga began? Check out Beyond Ontariese, Box Set 1!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cyndi Friberg
• Release date: Nov 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393290209

Cyndi Friberg

Passionate Sci-Fi with a touch of danger and a whole lot of sass. Cyndi has written about rock stars, vampires, and cat shifters, but she’s currently focused on outer space. Her stories are fun, fast-paced, and seriously hot. Her books have made the USA Today Top 100, and frequently land on Amazon Best Seller lists. She is currently working on the Shadowborn Rebellion, a spin-off series set in the Outcasts universe.   She loves to hear from readers: [e-mail] https://facebook.com/fribergc https://twitter.com/Cyndi_Friberg

Book preview

Book Four: Mystic Flame

Determined to recover a priceless journal, Dro Tar pursues Evan to Las Vegas. Evan insists he took the journal to protect it from the real thieves. Dro Tar isn’t sure what to believe. Her heart has yet to recover from the last time she tangled with the enigmatic Mystic. She wanted him then and she wants him now, but what’s his true motivation?

Evan has never stopped loving Dro Tar, but her willingness to believe he’s a coward cut him deeply. Now fate has brought them back together and he intends to take full advantage of the opportunity. He’ll seduce her slowly, rediscover every inch of her supple body as he reminds her why they originally fell in love. Only by resolving their past can they vanquish their enemies and secure a future together.

Prologue

Dro Tar Nex leaned her shoulder against the cool bulkhead in the commander’s cabin and watched the argument escalate. The ship had been orbiting Rodymia for almost a full lunar cycle and still Kort agreed to wait.

"He’s playing you for a fool, Commander. The subtle mockery in Evan’s tone was sure to get fists flying. Broad-shouldered yet lean, Evan stood half a head taller than the Linusian. This is the third time Stromn postponed the exchange. He has no intention of dealing with you."

Kort’s beady eyes narrowed and the green tinge of his skin deepened. If you don’t like it, get the hell off my ship.

Dro Tar crossed her arms over her chest as tension expanded within her. They needed Kort. The obnoxious Linusian was their only hope of finding Stromn, and apprehending Stromn was their primary objective. Stromn headed a ruthless network of smugglers who had recently expanded operations into Ontarian space. Dro Tar understood Evan’s frustration. Kort needed a push or they would be stuck on his ship until the Day Moon turned to dust. Still, the Linusian could be unpredictable.

Maybe you’re satisfied with these dead-end runs. Evan paused, challenge gleaming in his lime-green eyes. But I need something more lucrative. Stromn is never going to take us seriously when you let him push you around.

Kort laughed, the sound harsh and brittle. "You’re going to teach me how to be assertive? You can’t even control your woman."

What’s between me and my woman has nothing—

The crew is begging for permission to tame her, Kort sneered. If you can’t make her obey, I’ll give her to someone who can.

The men glared at each other. Dro Tar felt their hostility like a gravity accelerator. Tingling heat burst low in her belly as she stared at Evan’s chiseled profile. Kort’s blunt features, on the other hand, sent chills skittering down her spine. She’d suspected it would come to this, had agreed to sleep with Evan if the situation made sex unavoidable. Anticipation had been sizzling between them for days, distracting them from their duties. Maybe it was better to get it over with.

Are you sure you’re ready? Evan’s voice sounded in her mind. This was the first time she’d worked with a Mystic operative. She wasn’t used to voices erupting in her head. He could only hear her thoughts when he intentionally created a telepathic link. The channel was obviously open now.

What choice do we have? she responded. He’s testing you.

The cabins are monitored, Evan said to Kort. She won’t perform for an audience. He pushed his fingers through his hair, sending the blond waves into appealing disarray.

And I won’t take advice from a pussy-whipped Ontarian.

Leaning forward, Evan brought his face within inches of Kort’s. I’ll take care of my woman if you arrange a meeting with Stromn.

You take care of your woman or I’ll show you what women are for. Turning his head, Kort swept Dro Tar’s body with a lecherous glance.

Evan shoved Kort back and crossed the cabin. Fight. If you suddenly give in, it will seem suspicious. He closed his hand around her upper arm.

She jerked out of his light grasp. If anyone touches me, I’ll show them what knives are for.

Grabbing her with both hands, Evan pulled her against his chest. Kort’s right. I’ve indulged you long enough. He bent and shoved his shoulder into her belly, easily lifting her off the floor. She kicked and squirmed until he banded her legs with his arm. Snatching her knife from the sheath strapped to her thigh, he tossed the weapon to Kort. The Linusian gasped but managed to catch the weapon. No more excuses. Contact Stromn. Evan stormed from the cabin before Kort could reply.

Dro Tar shoved against Evan’s back. He smacked her on the ass. "This is not going to happen, she yelled. I saw you with your hand down Lissa’s pants."

Her hand was down my pants and that’s as far as it went. I told you that three weeks ago.

Why the hell should I believe you?

Several crewmembers chuckled as they passed, but Evan entered their cabin before he replied. Have I ever lied to you? He slid her down against his body until her feet touched the floor.

How would I know? She struggled against his hold, glaring up at him. I trusted you until I found you with—

Nothing happened! He pushed her back and pinned her against the wall with the weight of his body. His hands framed her face. "I’m tired of aching, nephri. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me anymore." She’d never heard the strange word, but his tone caressed it, made her certain it was an endearment.

She stared into his smoldering gaze and felt her insides melt. They might not be longtime lovers as they were pretending, but attraction had sparked between them from the very start. His confidence appealed to her. His sense of humor kept her from going insane. Pretending she wanted nothing to do with him had been harder than surrendering to desire. Licking her lips, she lowered her gaze to his mouth. Finally, she’d feel the heat of those sensual lips.

You’re still an arrogant jerk, she whispered.

He chuckled. I can work with that.

His mouth covered hers and he pulled her away from the wall, pressing her tight against his body. With frantic urgency they touched each other, too impatient to fully undress. He slipped his hand beneath her uniform top and unfastened her undergarment, freeing her breasts for his eager exploration.

She tugged his shirt up and found bare skin, stroking his back and sides with ravenous hunger. She’d dreamed of this, imagined their joining, yet he’d seemed reluctant to touch her.

I knew they’d watch us. I didn’t want to put you through that. Even in her mind his voice sounded breathless and edgy.

I don’t care. I want this. I want you.

He drew her breath into his mouth and traced her lower lip with his tongue. His hand cupped her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple. I don’t want to share this with them. I want—

They can only intrude if we let them. Look at me. Think only of me.

Sweeping her into his arms, he placed her in the middle of the bunk and quickly undressed before joining her. I’ve missed you, he whispered as he pulled her uniform top off over her head then tossed her support garment aside. She sat, exploring his broad chest as he knelt between her legs. His body was masculine perfection, lean, toned and sharply defined. She squeezed his thick upper arms and broad shoulders. Her pulse raced as each touch brought them closer to fulfillment.

He touched her with reverent care, his hands skimming her fevered skin. His patience tormented her, coiling tension between her spread thighs. She trailed her fingers downward, reaching for his thick shaft, anxious to feel his hardness and his heat.

Not yet. Grasping her wrists, he guided her hands to the bed behind her, arching her back provocatively. He bent to her breasts, capturing one nipple between his teeth while he firmly rolled the other.

Each touch, each nibble wound the coil tighter. She squeezed her eyes shut, blinded by desire. Her legs trembled and her core pulsed. She needed him there, needed him now! Please. The word escaped with a ragged gasp. Weeks of anticipation and the ever-present sense of danger sharpened her emotions and fueled the flames.

Lie back. The husky command robbed her of strength, made her hot and boneless. He tugged off her boots and unfastened her pants. She raised her hips so he could finish undressing her. You made me wait. Don’t think this is going to be easy. She trembled at the tender threat, reminded of their unwanted audience. Open your eyes. Look at me. Think only of me. The possessive passion gleaming in his gaze took her breath away. This was more than a mission. The emotions etched in his face were stark, elemental, real. Raise your arms above your head and leave them there or I’ll bind you.

She obeyed, her gaze locked on his passion-flushed face. He touched her boldly, building her need to the edge of orgasm only to pause and refuse her release. After lavishing attention on her nipples, he wandered across her quivering abdomen. He scooted down, forcing her legs wide to accommodate his shoulders.

Her lids started to droop as the throbbing became painful. Look at me. Their gazes collided and he pushed two fingers into her core. She cried out, arching off the bed.

Please!

He flicked his tongue across her clit twice then grinned. You refused me for weeks. Why should I show mercy?

I thought...I’m sorry. Please stop teasing me.

Dragging his fingers nearly out of her slick passage, he narrowed his gaze and covered her clit with his thumb. I like teasing you. I like hearing you beg. Beg some more. Beg me to taste you.

A hard, needful spasm constricted her inner muscles while tenderness softened her heart. Please taste me. Fill me with your tongue. She’d never wanted anything more or needed anyone so desperately. He parted her folds with his fingers and traced her slit over and over. She bucked and swayed, trying to bring his tongue into contact with her aching clit. He was punishing her for her stubbornness, she understood that, but a certain gleam in his eyes warned her that this was not all for show. Evan intended to devour her, claim her, overwhelm her in ways she had yet to imagine.

He pressed his lips against her, sinking his tongue deep. She gritted her teeth and whimpered, sensations welling up inside her. His warm hands on her thighs, his intimate kiss, his gaze burned into hers. It was all more than she could take. She cried out sharply and came in hard, shuddering waves.

Prolonging the distinct spasms with his clever tongue, Evan dragged every last tingle from her body before he raised his head. Turn over.

Lethargic and replete from the shattering orgasm, she didn’t move fast enough. He flipped her over onto her stomach then pulled her hips up until she understood what he wanted. She folded her legs beneath her, resting on her knees. He nudged her thighs apart and entered her in one forceful drive.

She cried out, surprised by his sudden aggression and the stunning fullness of his thick length filling her. He reached around and found her swollen clit, pairing each deep thrust with a circular motion until she was gasping and rocking to meet him.

Mine. He growled the word against her hair, his hands firm on her hips. "Say it, nephri. Say you’re mine."

Her body squeezed him greedily as he thrust into her. The intensity built. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

Say it! He increased his speed and force until she cried out with each demanding penetration.

I’m—yours. A pulse of scalding pleasure like a Mystic flame burst from him and she screamed. He buried himself to the hilt, his arm wrapped around her hips. Wave after wave crashed over them, sweeping them beyond the ship, beyond the danger, beyond reality.

They clung to each other. Their harsh gasps the only sound. Wrapping her tight in his arms, he rolled them to their sides, his body still lodged deep inside hers. He pressed kisses against her neck and shoulder, one of his hands cupping her breast.

"What does nephri mean?" she whispered.

It’s an ancient Mystic term. His warm breath teased her ear. It means beloved.

Chapter One

Mist rolled across the rutted path and Dro Tar squinted into the darkness. A soft keening drew her attention to the castle looming in the distance. She inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh scent of pine and the complexity of smoke and roasting meat. A cool gust made her shiver as clouds obscured the moon.

A well-muscled arm encircled her waist, trapping her hands at her sides. She struggled. Her captor tightened his grip, pressing against her back. Heat sank through her clothing and his scent, an intoxicating combination of leather, exotic spices and musk enveloped her. She sighed, relaxing in his embrace. He gathered her hair away from the nape of her neck and pressed his mouth to her sensitive skin. Warmth, pressure, moisture, his kiss held the perfect combination of each. He scraped his teeth over her flesh and cupped her breast.

Did you honestly think you could elude me so easily? A faint accent colored his words, but his tone was thin and nasal.

Pause program. She wiggled out of the vampire’s embrace and crossed her arms over her chest. His appearance was perfect. Midnight-black hair with just a hint of curl, broad chest, narrow hips and long-fingered hands. Light flashed on in the adjacent room, allowing her to see her business partner. Grat Farlay stood at the control panel, clearly frustrated by yet another delay. So shoot me. She motioned toward the vampire. His voice is still wrong. It needs to be deeper. Vampires can seduce with a word, curl a woman’s toes by whispering her name. John here needs a decongestant.

Deeper is a bit too vague, Grat muttered. Tone, pitch, inflection, cadence. Where do I begin? I need an audio sample, a starting point.

End simulation. The holographic projection dissolved, leaving her in a bare room with the robot she’d named John Doe. Go charge up. We’ll play some more later. John moved to the far corner of the simulation booth and backed against the wall, engaging his charger prongs. Dro Tar left the sim-chamber and joined Grat at the control console. The atmosphere is perfect. We’re stimulating all five senses. John’s AI integration has never been more convincing, but that voice has to go.

I’ll move on to the bedroom sequence and you go find me a voice.

She nodded and crossed the lab, her mind rushing on ahead. Sam Elliot had the rich depth she craved, but how would Grat filter out that drawl? Taking the corridor to the left, she headed for the tiny office in the back of their ramshackle building. Sean Connery wasn’t much better. Who ever heard of a Scottish vampire?

Hello, Ms. Nex. The deep male voice came from directly behind her and tingles danced down her spine. You were surprisingly hard to find.

She recognized Trey dar Aune with the second sentence, but for just a moment she was back in the simulation booth. Say it again. She didn’t turn around.

You were hard as hell to find?

No, the first part and say it in that hushed, sort of growly tone.

He chuckled. Hello, Ms. Nex. As adorable as you are, you know I’m happily married.

Yes. Oh gods, yes! She swung around and grabbed his wrist, ignoring his startled expression. Dragging her former commander behind her, she headed back to the lab. I found him, Grat. Oh boy, did I find him. She pushed Trey toward the console and activated audio record. Say it exactly like you did in the corridor.

What the hell is this about?

Just do it. She gave him another little shove.

Hello, Ms. Nex. You have clearly lost your mind.

Trey, she cried. We really need a voice clip to use in this simulation. Just cooperate for once in your life.

His eyebrows shot up and he looked from Dro Tar to Grat and back. What are you simulating?

Vampire adventures. Trey had never been one to jump in blindly, so she rattled off a quick explanation. We’re creating entertainment simulations. Clients will be able to hunt vampires or be a vampire or be seduced by a vampire. We need your voice for the latter. So think of Krysta and give us a damn voice clip.

What do you want me to say? Annoyance deepened his tone. She quickly called up the first few lines of the simulation and pointed to the vidscreen inset in the control panel. Trey rolled his eyes but recited the lines. Did you honestly think you could elude me so easily? He paused. Your scent is intoxicating. Your skin is like silk. I hunger for the sweetness of your nectar. I must know your taste. He burst out laughing and stepped away from the controls. You have got to be kidding. No one will make it through that rubbish with a straight face.

It’s a bit melodramatic, but you have to be surrounded by the simulation and in the arms of the vampire before it makes sense.

Whatever you say. He crossed his arms over his brawny chest, amusement glistening in his amber eyes. His hair, an unusual mixture of vivid colors, always made Dro Tar think of autumn leaves.

Was there some reason you came looking for me? she asked.

He glanced at Grat. I need to borrow her for a bit.

We’re pretty busy, Dro Tar said before Grat could speak. Is this important? Trey wouldn’t be here if it weren’t, but Grat needed to think she’d at least attempted to resist.

It’s very important and as usual you’re uniquely qualified for the—adventure. His lips quirked but he didn’t quite smile.

She followed Trey across the lab, pausing in the doorway. Grat, he might be right. Let’s reconsider the dialogue. He offered a distracted wave then returned to the controls.

Trey took her to a nondescript shuttle parked in the small lot behind the building. She looked at the shabby edifice with parental pride. It wasn’t much, but it was hers and she could see the potential, even if no one else could.

I know you’re retired, Trey began.

Semiretired. I’m always available for your adventures. She had served on three of Trey’s ships during her cycles in the armed forces. He was the only commander her rebellious nature could tolerate, so his promotion to director of Covert Operations had prompted her resignation. If she was required to wear a uniform, all bets were off.

Trey activated the hatch and motioned her inside the shuttle. Tal dar Aune awaited them inside. Regal and composed, Tal’s sculpted features revealed nothing while his smoke-colored eyes saw everything. His sleek black hair had been swept away from his face and formed a neat coil down the center of his back. Dro Tar wasn’t fooled by his nonchalance. Tal could strike faster than a cobra.

Two Aunes for the price of one. Have I been very good or very naughty? Trey closed the hatch and crossed to the expansive control console. This shuttle might look simple from the outside, but it had all sorts of bells and whistles. What’s going on?

I need your help. Tal’s tone was even graver than usual. He sat in one of the passenger seats facing the aft cabin. I’ve done everything in my power to assure the transition of leadership within the Conservatory progresses smoothly, but a major setback has occurred.

A pang of sorrow disrupted the rhythm of Dro Tar’s heart. She hadn’t known Vee well, but his death had affected so many of the people she cared about. Vee named you as his successor and transferred his wisdom and experience to you. How could any of the Mystics object to your...promotion?

The ripples of discontent began before Vee’s death. His passing has simply made the rebels bold.

Sounded like a Mystic problem to her. So why was one of the most powerful men on Ontariese asking her for help? What do you need from me? I’m not even a Mystic. Way to accent the obvious. She clasped her hands behind her back and did her best to emulate his calm.

The fact you are not a Mystic is part of the reason you were chosen. Tal scooted to the edge of the seat, his gaze boring into hers. Vee kept a journal detailing the development of the Conservatory from its inception. Every challenge, every success, many training strategies he only shared with an elite few, all this and more is recorded in his journal.

You’re talking about a physical book? He wrote this stuff down—on paper?

Tal shook his head. Nothing so antiquated. It’s a simple, portable device that stores a combination of audio, visual and holographic entries.

There was only one reason he’d be telling her all this. One of the rebels stole the journal?

The journal was stolen. Beyond that, my information is muddled. We know who took it and a Seeker Circle revealed where he went. This crime was witnessed by Master Malos, but his account leaves me with more questions than answers.

According to Malos, who took it?

Who is not as important as why.

She arched one of her eyebrows at the obvious evasion. I’ll bite. Why was the journal stolen?

Malos claims the thief intends to use the information in the journal to sabotage my leadership.

You don’t believe the thief is involved in the rebellion?

I believe Malos himself leads the rebels, but my investigation has barely begun. I can trust no one at this point, which forces me to look outside the Conservatory for assistance. The man Malos accused was Vee’s apprentice. His loyalty is beyond reproach. It is simply impossible that he—

Nothing is impossible and no one is beyond reproach. Stop beating around the bush. Who took the journal and where did he go?

Evan cet Roumi took Vee’s journal.

Dro Tar just stared at Tal for a long moment, her throat tight and dry. Trey knew how she felt about Evan. Why would he bring Tal here if Evan was involved? She looked at Trey, but the coward suddenly found something on the control console that demanded his attention. After rubbing the bridge of her nose with her middle finger, she turned back to Tal. You said the thief was Vee’s apprentice. Evan was already a Master-level Mage when we crossed paths fifteen solar cycles ago.

Trey turned around and met her gaze, his jaw clenching before he spoke. After Evan returned from the mission, he renounced his standing at the Conservatory. He asked Vee to assign him another mentor so he could be retrained. Much to Evan’s chagrin, Vee named himself Evan’s new mentor. Evan thought it was too great an honor. The reason for his request was to—

He blamed his cowardice on his mentor? ‘I shit my pants and ran for the hills. Will you please retrain me?’ How pathetic is that?

Tal stood, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes began to swirl. Only Shapeshifters could control the subtle movement universal in Ontarian eyes. Tal’s expression remained impassive, but her belligerence had obviously upset him. Trey warned me that you harbored resentment toward Evan. I found it hard to believe you would still be angry after—

You weren’t there! He deserted our team and two of my friends died because of it.

Did you ask him what happened that day? Tal replied with uncharacteristic fervor. Did you give him the opportunity—

He blinked out in the heat of battle. What is there to explain?

If she interrupts me again, I will silence her, Tal told his brother with an imperious scowl.

Trey crossed the cabin with two long strides and placed his hand on Dro Tar’s shoulder. This isn’t about Evan. She twisted away. The information contained in the journal cannot fall into the wrong hands.

It’s already in the wrong hands, she cried. Evan is a sniveling—

Stand down, Dro Tar. Trey’s tone snapped with an autocratic inflection he seldom used with her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at each brother in turn.

We have to get the journal back. That’s the bottom line. Trey looked into her eyes, his gaze filled with expectation. If Tal had come alone, she’d have laughed in his face, but she owed Trey more than anyone would ever understand. He’d taken a chance on a foul-mouthed troublemaker when the rest of the world wanted to pretend she didn’t exist. You’re one of the few people who can track him down without requiring significant training. The fact you’ll be tracking Evan is an unhappy coincidence.

Bullshit. She punctuated the profanity with her sweetest smile. There is no such thing as a coincidence when you’re involved. Tell me the rest. Where did he go and what makes you think I can make him do anything? He’s got a few more tricks up his sleeve than I do.

We don’t expect you to bring him back, Tal interjected. Find him. Talk to him and find out why he left.

She snorted. I don’t need to leave the shuttle to tell you that. Running and hiding is what he does. Tal’s breath hissed out in an exasperated sigh. Trey just shook his head. She’d pushed them both about as far as she dared. As if being leader of the Mystics wasn’t impressive enough, Tal was married to High Queen Charlotte.

Let’s agree to disagree on the subject of Evan, Trey suggested.

She focused on her friend and mentor. It was too easy to lump all Mystics together, which put Tal in the same group with Evan. Where did the little weasel go?

After rescuing the journal from Malos, Evan opened an interdimensional portal and transported himself to Earth.

Dro Tar grinned. It was starting to make sense. Earth had fascinated her since she first visited the planet eleven solar cycles before. She’d returned to different locations in various time periods, volunteering for any assignment that took her to Earth. Her obsession with all things Earthish grew with each new venture.

Now do you understand? Trey’s stance relaxed in tandem with hers.

Yes, sir. No one knows more about Earth than me and no one is more willing to go. She paused, glancing at the Mystic. Won’t Malos and his lackeys know that?

The faintest hint of a smile curved Tal’s mouth. If they knew Evan had transported to Earth, your concern would be justified.

Baby brother is getting crafty in his old age, Trey teased. He staged some sort of ritual and manipulated the results.

I wanted to see how long it would take Malos to dispatch his ‘lackeys’.

Was he smart enough to wait a day or two? she asked.

Tal shook his head. Within hours of the false Seeker Circle, Malos sent a team to Linusia Prime. The true Seeker Circle revealed strange images, even I didn’t understand. I shared the impressions with my life mate and Charlotte helped me clarify what I had seen.

The High Queen had spent the first thirty solar cycles of her life on Earth, unaware of her Ontarian origins. I’m still waiting for the punch line. Where am I going?

We were unable to determine his exact location, but we narrowed it down to one of three hotels.

Trey wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. Not only are you going back to Earth, my dear, you’re going to Las Vegas!

DRO TAR FOUGHT BACK her excited laughter. Laughing was inappropriate given the importance of her mission, so she’d wait until the Mystics were gone before indulging her cheer. The rebellious thought only made her excitement that much harder to conceal. Colors bent and twisted around her and sound escalated to an unintelligible roar as her escorts propelled her through space.

Tal could open an interdimensional portal by Summoning the Storm, but the resulting vortex was too large and obvious for their purposes. They needed to be stealthy and specific, so he’d joined with two other Mystics and created a tight, intense conduit.

Sound receded and the blur of color slowed, taking on shape as they neared their destination. The Mystics uncrossed their arms, allowing her to exit the portal. She took two wobbly steps then turned back and looked at Tal, squinting into the shimmering glare.

We will return for you in five days unless we hear from you first, he said.

The only way she could contact them was if she found Evan. She nodded and shooed them away. Despite their attempts to control the portal, the conduit was noisy and bright. They locked wrists and closed the vortex, leaving Dro Tar alone in the hotel room.

Tal had scanned ahead and located an uninhabited room. The suite might be empty at present, but it was obviously occupied. One of the beds was rumpled, the pillows stacked against the headboard, as if someone had sat on the bed to watch television.

The bathroom door swung open and a man stood in the threshold, a towel wrapped around his hips. What the—

Oh gods! She rushed toward the main door to the suite, wheeling her small suitcase behind her. There’s obviously been a horrible mistake.

How did you get in here? He stepped back into the bathroom, partially closing the door.

Card key. You must not have flipped the privacy thingy. She slipped into the hallway before he could say any more. The front desk was going to get an earful as soon as he dried off. She better hurry.

Twenty minutes later, Dro Tar lifted her suitcase onto the bed in her own room. Moving to the window, she pulled back the draperies and stared out at the mesmerizing clutter that made up the world-famous Strip. The scene was cast in hazy twilight, the sun still visible against the far horizon. Her gaze swept down one side of the crowded street and up the other. Had any civilization ever created a more eclectic skyline? She couldn’t wait to see the lights once darkness fell.

She finger-combed her hair as she walked back to the bed. Unzipping her bag, she retrieved a handheld scanner. A recent skirmish with the technologically advanced Rodytes had left Ontariese with some interesting new gadgets. Rather like Vee’s journal, the trick was going to be keeping them out of the wrong hands. The device had been designed to look like a cell phone, but it was far more powerful. She powered up a simple grid. A blinking red light indicated her location.

Activate full spectrum. The primitive grid morphed into a three-dimensional diagram. Turning as she moved, the image maintained perspective, but there was no sign of Evan. Minimize. The display returned to the original grid.

Moving between dimensions allowed the Mystics to access different points in time as well as space. The timeline remained constant on Ontariese while the vortex had deposited her on Earth before Evan arrived. But how long before, that was the question. She had five days to find him and discover the truth about the journal. Setting the scanner on standby, she made sure it would signal her at the first sign of Evan’s energy signature.

She looked into the mirror above the small desk and verified that her contacts were still in place. The thin film concealed her gently swirling eyes and created the appearance of concentric rings. Confident that she would pass for a human, she headed for the casino.

EVAN STAGGERED OUT of the transport conduit and sank to his knees. Disjointed images beset his mind, blinding him, melding reality and vision until he couldn’t tell one from the other. He clutched his head, bracing himself against the agonizing waves.

Oh my god, are you all right? A shrill female voice sliced through his throbbing head. What was that crash? It sounded like...

The ringing in his ears distorted her words beyond comprehension. Think. Concentrate. What language is she speaking? Where are you?

He slowly opened his eyes. The woman’s face swam before him, swelling in and out of focus.

Are you— Where did you get those contacts?

He groaned as her voice attacked him again.

What’s going on, Sheryl? Is he okay?

English. They were speaking English. Why was he on Earth? The pain was less penetrating with his eyes closed. He concentrated on his breathing, pushing the pain from his body with each exhalation.

Sheryl giggled. "I think he’s drunk, but you should see his eyes. He must be with Star-Crossed. She touched his shoulder. Are you feeling any better?"

Should I go get help? the second female asked.

The last thing Evan needed was more attention. He raised his head and searched for the right words. I will—be fine.

Sheryl’s companion gasped when he opened his eyes. How do you make them do that? I’ve never seen anything like it.

Contacts. He repeated Sheryl’s word. Earth’s languages had been gradually consolidated into one common language during the second half of the twenty-first century. He must have materialized before that time.

Pain eased, leaving a persistent ache and a sense of urgency. He needed energy.

"Are you in Star-Crossed?" the second woman asked.

Of course he is, Sheryl said. Why else would he be dressed like this? She knelt beside him and reached for his hand. Did you hit your head when you fell? I heard a terrible ruckus.

I’m feeling much better now. The journal! He reached down, hurriedly feeling for the device in the seam pocket of his robe. Thank the gods of the day moon it was still there.

How did he get back here? the second woman whispered to Sheryl, her expression dubious. If he came staggering through the kitchen, why didn’t anyone stop him?

As the females debated, Evan took stock of his surroundings. He was in some sort of storeroom, surrounded by crowded shelves and wooden crates. The women were dressed in identical dresses, likely uniforms. Clanks and clatters emanated from the adjacent room. He needed to think, to sort out the images twisting through his mind.

He pushed off the floor then got his feet beneath him. His legs trembled, barely supporting his weight. Sheryl pulled his arm across her shoulders and wrapped hers around his waist. The movement shocked him. It was forbidden to touch a Mystic without permission.

Are you staying here or should we call you a cab?

What was she asking? Her words made no sense. Sounds and smells pelted his overloaded brain as they skirted the bustling kitchen. He needed to meditate, to—he needed energy. Each step drained his meager strength, made his breathing labored. The second woman held open a swinging door as Sheryl maneuvered him past the threshold.

His stomach cramped and he leaned on the female more heavily. Eating would never provide the concentration of energy he required. He needed a direct transfer and he needed it now. His training had taught him how to extract energy, but the process could be frightening, even harmful for an untrained donor.

The second woman trailed a bit behind. You can’t stuff him in a cab like this. I’m not even sure he’s drunk. He looks sick to me.

If he could get them to an isolated location he could—

There you are! Regardless of the alien language she spoke, Dro Tar’s voice was all too familiar. The husky timbre had haunted his dreams and teased his mind for fifteen solar cycles. He turned his head to the side, unsure how to react to this unexpected development. Dro Tar came striding toward him, her eyes narrowed and... How had she changed the appearance of her eyes? I’ve been looking all over for him. She spoke English with the faintest hint of an accent. I told him wearing his costume off stage was infantile and he proceeds to get rip-roaring drunk. Sort of proves my point, don’t ya think?

We found him in the storeroom, Sheryl explained. I have no idea how he made it through the kitchen without someone stopping him.

They’re getting ready for the dinner rush. No time to deal with a sloppy drunk. Dro Tar had mastered their vernacular. She was as difficult to understand as the humans. He didn’t care that her posture was stiff and hostility simmered beneath her welcoming façade. He had never been more relieved to see anyone in his life.

Dro Tar shoved her shoulder into Evan’s armpit and wrapped her arm around his waist.

Are you sure he’s all right? the waitress asked as Dro Tar pivoted, leaving her no choice but to step back.

He just needs to sleep it off. Thanks for your help. She maneuvered Evan away from his rescuers and started across the dining room. Heads turned and conversations hushed. They reached a man who gaped comically. Haven’t you ever seen a drunk alien before? She intentionally projected her voice across the room. The man smiled and people returned to their plates piled high from the buffet.

She half led, half dragged him to the nearest elevator and leaned him against the wall as the car began a rapid ascent. You look like shit. His skin was so pale it was almost gray and the rotation of his eyes had nearly stopped.

Kiss me, he whispered in Ontarian as his eyelids drooped.

He wasn’t asking for affection, she understood what he needed. Framing his face with her hands, she covered his mouth with hers. Warm yet lax, his lips didn’t move at first. She leaned closer, pressing her breasts against his chest, willing him to respond. Do it.

His lips parted and his arms wrapped around her back. He tilted his head, fitting his mouth more tightly to hers. Tingles erupted deep in her belly, curling and building. She arched, pushing her fingers into his hair.

Night after endless night, she’d dreamed of his taste, longed for the urgent demand always evident in his touch. No one affected her like Evan. No one understood what she craved. This isn’t sex! He needs energy. There is nothing more to it than that.

His tongue traced her lower lip, encouraging her to open wider without delving deeper. The gathering increased, tingles spiking from pleasure to pain and back to pleasure. He took from her carefully, his embrace growing stronger as she relaxed against his chest.

Memories flared, lips pressing, sliding over naked flesh. Hands caressing, stroking, grasping as he moved between her legs. She’d never experienced anything as intense as making love with Evan; which made his betrayal unbearable.

Tearing her mouth away from his, she stepped back, out of his arms. The elevator door slid open and she rushed out into the cool corridor. He moved soundlessly, but she sensed him behind her. Tension arced between them, a festering wound unattended for fifteen cycles.

Why are you here? His tone was much stronger now.

To save your ungrateful ass. She didn’t turn around. Do you have the journal?

He grabbed her upper arm and brought her up short. Who sent you after me?

Who do you think? She glared over her shoulder, twisting her arm out of his grasp. Keep your paws off me. This is strictly business. He said nothing more as she marched down the hallway. She’d expected an emotional reaction to seeing him again, but this was ridiculous. The ache in her chest made each breath painful.

She opened her door with a cardkey and stepped inside. He ducked in half a second before the door slammed in his face. How did you find me? I closed the portal before I locked on to a destination. There’s no way Malos could have known where I went.

Then it stands to reason Malos didn’t send me.

He sighed, his lips thinning as tension took control of his expression. If you want me to explain what happened back then, I’ll—

Don’t bother, she snapped. It’s ancient history.

You won’t let me explain, but you’re determined to be angry. This is sure to be pleasant.

She faced him, arms folded over her chest, unable to do more than glare. Thick golden hair framed his face in messy waves. Their liplink transfer had restored a healthy cast to his skin. Distinct lines bracketed his mouth, accenting the sensual fullness of his lips. Bracing herself for her body’s reaction, she looked into his eyes.

Her heart fluttered and a slow, melting sensation curled from her breasts to her feminine core. So damn predictable. All he’d ever had to do was look at her to get her blood simmering. Do you have the journal or not?

Chapter Two

Evan swallowed past the lump in his throat. Nothing had changed. Dro Tar still had no intention of letting him explain. She’d ignored his messages and refused to see him until humiliation drove him away. By burying himself in the rigors of training he’d found something resembling peace, but she was never far from his thoughts.

Very few Mystics could control a transport conduit with enough precision to deposit her on Earth at a specific place and time. Malos was one of the few, but Evan was certain Malos didn’t know where he’d gone. It would have taken a Seeker Circle to learn his whereabouts and only Head Master Tal had the authority to sanction such a joining.

Balling his hands into fists, he fought his need to touch her, to caress her until she was ready to be reasonable. A hollow laugh sounded inside his mind. Dro Tar had never been reasonable. She was fire and spontaneity, laughter and defiance, but nothing as mundane as reasonable.

What did they tell you? he asked, evading her question. He wasn’t going to admit to anything until he understood the situation better.

Why do you say ‘they’? I haven’t mentioned anyone.

Her stubbornness amused him far more than it should. He really didn’t have time for her obstinacy. Walking past her, he crossed to the window and gazed out into the night. The parted draperies exposed a wide thoroughfare lined with massive buildings. Lights and animated signs winked through the darkness. Each edifice was unique yet somehow similar. Where are we?

How can you not know where we are? I followed you, sort of.

Turning his back to the mesmerizing vista, he looked at his prickly companion. Her hair was shorter than the last time he’d seen her. It capped her head in a riot of gold-tipped brown curls. The changes in her features were subtle, faint lines fanned out from her eyes. Still, she was the same woman who’d haunted his dreams, the same woman he’d laughed with and loved. It didn’t matter! He couldn’t let it matter.

Her clothing was peculiar. Bold black letters were centered on a simple white shirt, but he couldn’t decipher their meaning. This trip had been unplanned, so he hadn’t undergone a language infusion. Fortunately he’d been infused with English for a previous mission or he wouldn’t be able to communicate with any of the humans. He focused on the letters I Luv Las Vegas. They still made no sense. Her formfitting black pants rode low on her hips, leaving several inches of toned abdomen bare. Would this costume help her blend with the local populace? He’d been too desperate for energy on the way to this room to notice how others were dressed.

He dragged his gaze away from her appealing shape and centered his attention on the crisis at hand. What did Malos tell Head Master Tal? Did anyone see what really happened?

What really happened? You tell me.

Despite his good intentions, his gaze gravitated downward again. The shirt hugged her torso, her nipples creating distinct peaks in the clingy material. Did he dare hope she wasn’t as indifferent as she made it seem?

Hey, buster, my eyes are up here. She motioned his gaze toward her face.

I find your apparel distracting, he admitted with a guilty smile.

I noticed. Now talk or give me the journal and send me back to Tal.

One of my responsibilities as Vee’s apprentice was to encrypt his journal entries and transmit them to Lord Drakkin on Bilarri.

She narrowed her gaze and tilted her head. Surely she had heard the name Lord Drakkin.