Taken By Storm (9 page)

“Can we go back for it?” Tal asked.

Dro Tar listened to the radio for a minute and then shook her head. “Too late. They’re already on-site.”

“What are we going to do? This is terrible. This connects me with a murder and I can’t explain the truth.” Charlotte shook with foreboding.

“I told you that you didn’t comprehend what was going on. I told you the danger would—”

“When did you realize he was an imposter?” Dro Tar cut in, saving Charlotte the trouble of strangling Tal. The last thing she needed right now was a sanctimonious lecture.

“Almost immediately. Once I got in the truck, he started asking me questions about my family. He wanted to know if I was adopted.”

“Were you?” Tal asked.

Charlotte took a deep breath. He didn’t mean to be rude and annoying but apparently tact was not taught on Ontariese. “I was, but what the hell does that have to do with any of this? I’ve had it with you—people.

Are you going to tell me what this is about?
Why
is Dez dar Joon looking for me?”

Tal had to look away from her lovely face. Her wide blue eyes stirred feelings in him he wasn’t willing to consider. Anger painted the crest of her cheeks with rosy color but vulnerability shone in the depths of her gaze.

He had to protect her from Joon, but he also needed to understand what Joon wanted with her.

Would ignorance keep her safe or would it simply leave her unprepared as she had been at her dwelling?

Before Tal could decide what he deemed best, Dro Tar answered her question.

“We don’t know why he’s looking for you. Even the Symposium couldn’t give us a definitive answer.”

“You don’t know what he wants?” she muttered.

“That’s just great. No, that’s perfect.”

“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” Dro Tar went on.

Charlotte sulked back in the seat, folding her arms across her chest. “Not much. My whole life, I’ve had dreams of a woman. I like to think she’s my mother but I’ve never been able to see her clearly. Dad was never in the picture as far as I know, and Mom relinquished all rights to me shortly after my birth.

Probably a teen pregnancy.”

“You know this as fact or this is what you’ve been told?” Tal asked.

She glared at him. He feared that would end her cooperation, but after a pause, she inundated him with information.

“Okay, you want a biography. I’ll just spell it out. I had everything I wanted as a child, but by the time I reached my teens, Mom more or less lost interest in her pet project. See, no deep, dark secrets, and the trauma came long after childhood.”

The pain he’d dispersed was building within her again. How could he learn about her background, figure out what might be drawing Joon to her, without upsetting her further? There was no help for it. He needed answers.

“How did you meet your life mate?” Tal asked.

“Was your joining arranged or are Earthlings allowed to choose their own partners?”

“Arranged marriages haven’t existed in America for years. Victor’s father and my adopted father are business partners so our families spent a lot of time together. Victor was almost ten years older than I am and my pedigree is questionable at best, so neither set of parents was thrilled with the romance.” Pain radiated from her like heat off a firestone and nothing she said made Joon’s motivation any clearer.

Tal sighed. “I apologize for delving into issues you find unpleasant.”

“Whatever,” she muttered, and looked out the window.

She lapsed into sullen silence and Tal fought the urge to comfort her. He had no idea how to go about soothing her, even if he were so inclined, but his need to embrace her, to touch her, irritated him.

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” Dro Tar said lightly in Ontarian. She tapped her thumbs against the wheel that controlled the vehicle’s direction.

“What, pray tell, does that mean?” Tal muttered.

“We’ve got Joon’s target. All we need to do is wait for him to come after her again.”

There was wisdom in Dro Tar’s suggestion. There was also
danger
in Dro Tar’s suggestion.

“If we fully understood his purpose, we could better anticipate his actions,” Tal mused. “Does he want her alive or is his intent murder? There are so many variables.”

With her open palm, Charlotte smacked the metal grill separating the seats. “I know you’re talking about me but I can’t understand you anymore. What happened to my translator?”

“Translator?” he asked in her language.

“When you were arguing with Joon, I could understand you.”

He looked at Dro Tar and they said in unison,

“Vee.”

“Vee must have been translating for you.”

“Why did he stop?”

“He is extremely weak,” Tal reminded her. “It is probable his levels dropped too low for him to continue the transmission.”

“Joon was shocked that you were still alive,” Charlotte said. “Did he cause your crash?”

“He attempted to collapse the vortex. How did you get away from him?”

She smiled, proud of her ingenuity. “I pretended to be sick to my stomach so he let me out of the truck.” Dro Tar laughed. “Good thinking.”

“He wanted me to look at him. He said if I wasn’t who he thought I was, he’d let me go. Any idea what that means?”

“Is it possible she’s Ontarian?” Dro Tar asked. “Did you sense anything when you scanned her?”

“I haven’t scanned her.” His eyes focused on Charlotte’s face and she began to squirm. “She seems to have an aversion to such things.”

“I don’t want you in my head,” she confirmed.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Tal turned back to Dro Tar with a shrug. If there was no other choice, he could always scan her while she slept. “Has Al secured the dwelling?”

“Yeah. He had one last errand to run then he’ll meet us there.” Dro Tar switched to Ontarian. “If we take her to the ship, she’d be safe from Joon. The scanners would detect him no matter what shape he used.”

Charlotte was excluded from the conversation again, Tal realized. “We need to draw him out, but I will not allow her to be used without her knowledge.”

“So tell her. It’s not like she hasn’t realized the bad guy is after her.”

Tal knew Dro Tar was right, but he debated how best to approach Charlotte. He didn’t want to overwhelm her with how embroiled she truly was in Ontarian complications. Still she needed to understand the true scope of her peril.

Charlotte looked around to see where they were.

Highway 82 became Hallam Street right after it crossed Castle Creek. They were approaching the elevated bridge that would take them into Aspen.

Their language was odd yet musical. She had already pointed out the rudeness of using it in front of her. They didn’t seem to care.

Depression closed in like a thundercloud. At least fear had given her energy. All she wanted to do right now was curl up in a ball and sleep, escaping the pain and uncertainty that had become her life.

They exchanged several short volleys of conversation before the woman pulled the car into the driveway of a small A-framed house. It looked like a gingerbread house with its steep roof and shingled gables.

Tal opened her door and Charlotte stepped out of the car. A brisk wind blew her hood back from her face but she didn’t bother raising it again.

“I have to return the car before shift change so they don’t realize I borrowed it,” Dro Tar said after letting them in. “Help yourself to whatever you need.” The house had a rustic charm but it was small and sparsely furnished. Charlotte crossed to the burgundy leather loveseat and sat. Tal watched her silently. She suspected whatever he had to say wasn’t going to please her.

In one elegant movement, he shifted back to his natural shape and sat in the matching recliner.

Charlotte smiled despite her sullen mood. He thought nothing of his abilities.

She no longer found his appearance shocking. The long coil of his hair hung over the chair’s arm and brushed the floor. A hint of blue threaded through the raven-black strands. His skin reverted to a smooth alabaster that any princess would envy and dark, slashing brows accented his unusual eyes.

“What are you thinking when you look at me?” he asked softly.

“How very different we are and yet how similar.” She held his gaze for a silent moment, feeling like a child who had stayed too long on a merry-go-round.

“What am I going to do? I don’t even know who’s more dangerous to me—the police, Joon or you.”

“I can transport you to Trey’s ship,” he said softly.

“You would be safe there.”

“But that’s not what you want me to do.”

“That is not what I
need
you to do. Dez dar Joon is a very dangerous man. We don’t yet understand his interest in you, but he has gone to a great deal of trouble to find you.”

“You want to use me as bait to catch Joon.” He rested his hands on the arms of the chair and inclined his head in a regal nod. “Yes. Here, you are a challenge to him. The fact that I guard you will heighten his enjoyment.”

“Why? Who is Joon to you? He called you
seyati
.

What does that mean?”

The question set him in motion. He crossed his legs then uncrossed them, scooted forward then back again. “It is not easily explained. How much do you really want to know?”

Charlotte kicked off her boots and pulled her legs up in front of her. Resting her heels on the edge of the loveseat, she wrapped her arms around her knees. “I want to know everything.”

He nodded again and leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs. “For thousands of cycles, Ontariese honored a social structure nearly backward from yours. Female Ontarians have abilities males do not.

One of the most significant is the ability to recognize potential and latent powers in a prospective mate.

This allowed them to choose mates who complemented and enhanced their own abilities, making us stronger as a people. For this reason, females led each of the great houses.”

The wistful catch in his tone tugged at Charlotte’s heart. “You said
led
. Is Ontariese no longer matriarchal?”

“E’Lanna dar Aune was the last High Queen of Ontariese. She chose Frim dar Joon as her mate.”

“Ah, a family feud,” Charlotte said.

“A family feud that rapidly escalated into devastating civil war,” he corrected. “After giving her two daughters, Frim decided he no long wished to bow to the dictates of a woman. He left her and reverted to his family name. He took a second mate, which is against the Ontarian Code of Ethics. When E’Lanna confronted him with his crimes, he swore to destroy the House of Aune, to wipe it from the face of Ontariese. The High Queen was forced to protect her children from their own father. Some believe he was mad. I believe he was evil. All of his descendants took on the name of Joon from that day forth.”

“The House of Aune and the House of Joon,” Charlotte said thoughtfully. “Are there other
houses
?”

“There are a total of six. When Frim dar Joon launched his campaign to reorder life on Ontariese, each of the six great houses was forced to choose sides. The House of Joon rules the Reformation Sect and the House of Aune heads the Traditionalist Sect.”

“And the two sects have been at war ever since?” No wonder he hated Dez dar Joon.

“For many cycles—which is roughly equivalent to your years—the Traditionalist Sect was much more powerful than the Reformation Sect. We did our best to ignore their radical views and continue on as we had always lived.”

He paused and his gaze drifted off into the distance. Whatever happened next had affected him personally and painfully. Charlotte knew the expression all too well. She didn’t rush him. She knew how that felt too.

“Twenty-five cycles after the Great Conflict began, Fro dar Joon, Frim’s son, declared war on the Traditionalist Sect. Frim had terrorized E’Lanna, but his focused aggression was nothing compared to the chaos his son unleashed.” He swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was deeper, softer. “Life was changed in ways you cannot imagine. The peaceful Ontariese that had flourished for eight millennia ceased to exist. The evil ambition of one man…”

“How long has the conflict been going on?” she asked.

“This is cycle eighty-nine of the Great Conflict. Six cycles ago, Shadow Assassins killed my mother and two sisters. In the past fifty cycles, no female bearing the name of Aune has been allowed to live.” Pity and compassion gripped her heart. She went to him. Kneeling in front of his chair, she captured his hands in hers. He allowed her touch and his gaze caressed her face.

“Do they only target women?” she asked gently, feeling sick inside.

“Women? My sisters were six and nine, hardly women. They kept my mother alive for three weeks before they
allowed
her to die. But yes, the vast majority of their victims are female.”

He took a deep breath. Charlotte felt his fingers tighten against hers and then he rushed on.

“Because the House of Aune is matriarchal, Fro dar Joon knew that slaughtering our women would force us to conform to their reformations. Many joined the Reformation Sect out of fear or some hope that they could end the Great Conflict. Still bowing to their insanity is abandoning everything Ontariese was and could be again. The Traditionalist Sect must defend the ancient ways and the sacred codes.”

He spread his legs and Charlotte moved closer.

“How can you defend yourselves against such ruthlessness?” she whispered. The spicy scent that always surrounded him grew stronger. Was it released by emotion?

“Since the onset of the Great Conflict, every female Aune has been hidden, born in secret and forced to use whatever means necessary to conceal their identities.”

“But the House of Joon finds them?”

“It does not seem to matter what we do, Reformation spies are everywhere. And their Shadow Assassins… They’re Mystics recruited because of their skill-set and conditioned to be ruthless, nearly mindless murderers.” He could not speak for a time.

“My mother and sisters were the last females with even the faintest of blood ties to the High Queen.

With their deaths, we thought the Reformation Sect had finally accomplished their objective, yet Joon did not seem satisfied.”