Ghost in my Heart [Darklands Book 4] Page 5

Frustrated, he glared at the floor. That had been foolish of him. A man never threatened a woman with such things. But when she stood up to him as if she were twice her size and muscled as well, he forgot that inside she was nothing but soft woman, easily wounded.

  Well, maybe not entirely soft, he corrected himself ruefully as he considered the last few minutes. The woman had spine. It made him want to dominate her, and the fire in his blood told him how. Unfortunately, he was not free to choose a woman based on lustful attraction. As leader of his people, he needed something more. Someone with queenly qualities. Though he hadn't quite defined what those were, he doubted Vana had them. How could she? It was unlikely that the first woman he'd gotten to know would possess every quality he'd ever need in a wife. A wise man would get to know the others before he even thought about making a choice.

  Unaccountably restless, he paced to the window and looked out. The spires of the city he cared for did not soothe him as they usually did. He knew the cause. The women were in the Bride House, waiting. Years of sexual frustration told him that nothing was more important than seeking them out. Yet his father's example stayed him.

  Though long dead, Dagon's father Nadir still influenced his choices. He'd been a good father, but a poor husband. Anything his wife Ellyn had wanted, she'd gotten. In return she'd born him son after son. While it had given Nadir much happiness, for only a son could hold the throne, it had not pleased Ellyn. Instead of correcting her increasingly objectionable behavior, Nadir had simply hired male caretakers—females did not do such menial things—for his children and spent more time on matters of state. He'd practically raised his sons, while Ellyn withdrew to the point of a bitter wraith. While she'd mellowed with time and adjustment to her disappointment, Dagon had not forgotten how she had been.

  He did not want a woman like her.

  Vana's moods reminded him too much of his mother.

  Perhaps he should take a closer look at the girl Jen. She'd held up well under pressure, and her golden hair was lovely. Ser might consider it poaching, but Dagon had a right to look where he chose. After all, it wasn't as if the two were promised yet.

  Feeling better, he turned from the window and selected some clothes. He had a queen to find.

  * * * *

  Vana knew he was there, but she didn't care. The way Dagon looked over the women, as if choosing his dinner from a finely stocked table, sickened her. Not once did he glance her way, and that was fine with her, too. She retreated to her alcove, found a pair of loose midnight pants and a scarlet top that bound her chest adequately. A gold sash bound the pants securely to her middle. Moments later, she flung her curtain aside and marched off to glare her message at one of the guard-escorts. Silently, he followed her from the harem.

  The huge practice room the men worked in was mostly empty. She chose a side room, looked to see that it had no exits or windows, then turned to her guard. “You can see I can't give you the slip in here. I'd appreciate it if you stayed outside while I work out. I like my privacy.” She stared at him.

  He stared back. Slowly, he nodded.

  Relieved, she shut the door and faced the mirrored walls. Since the age of nine, when they'd introduced it in her school, she'd practiced Jujitsu. In college she'd taken whatever martial art was available. Since she'd sucked at team sports and anything involving a ball, it had seemed wise. Besides, she'd enjoyed it, and it was practical. There'd even been some weapons training, and she was delighted to find several staffs in racks along one wall. Later she would practice with those.

  Nature had been kind to her. Blessed with stretchy ligaments, it hadn't taken her long to manage both the Chinese and American splits. It felt good to indulge in them now. And while she had always hated patterns and had difficultly remembering them, she'd practiced enough strikes, blocks and kicks to keep her sweaty. It was hard to say how effective she'd be in an actual fight, but that didn't keep her from practicing. At least the movements kept her fit.

  It was a relief to forget where she was, and what was expected of her. The outlet for her anger alone made all the practice hours she'd spent worth it. The burn was feeling so good, in fact, that the muscle she tore while sending a roundhouse kick at a shadow target caught her by surprise. She yelped, and then leaned over, panting. It stung, but it wouldn't kill her. It did put a damper on her practice, though. Stupid high-kicks. Even when she warmed up, they sometimes popped that silly muscle.

  Wiping the sweat from her brow, she opened the door.

  Her keeper frowned at her as she hobbled out. “Do you need help?"

  "No.” The terse word must have been enough, for he didn't bother her again. She gauged the limping distance to the door and blinked in surprise. There was a gaggle of four children gathered around her, staring at her curiously.

  "What were you doing?” a tow headed lad who must have been eleven asked. He looked very grave, as if he were addressing someone of importance. “We heard shouting."

  Pleasantly surprised by the young ones, she shrugged. “I was working out."

  "Yes, but what were you doing?” a younger lad of maybe nine asked. He was missing a tooth, and had a black tattoo on his right cheek. “Do you dance?” He looked eager.

  "Jujitsu is a martial art, not a dance. I hate to disappoint you, but I'm a terrible dancer."

  There was a hum of surprise among the boys. The blond said suspiciously, “But women aren't allowed to do such things."

  Vana glanced at her guard. He was frowning at her like someone who'd love to give a lecture but wasn't certain it was his place.

  "What's your name?” she asked, stalling.

  "Devin,” the boy answered. “This little dark one is Keg, the twins are Gamin and Bajeng.” The twins he indicated looked to be six. Both had dark hair caught up in topknots and dark eyes ringed in thick lashes. The stern looks they sent her saved them from the classification of too cute for words, though they edged dangerously close to adorable.

  Quelling her grin, Vana said gravely, “Things are different where I come from. Women are well advised to take care of themselves, because we don't have men following us around willing to do it for us.” She nodded at her guard as if he were actually doing her a useful service.

  The short haired Keg considered that. “You have Dark Ones who would steal you there?"

  In spite of her best efforts, her mouth twitched. “Ahem. I don't know about that. But there are muggers, and killers, and men with, uh, unsavory things on their mind. It's just not safe to be ignorant when you're the only one looking out for your own safety."

  The boys looked at each other. Keg spoke. “You need an escort, lady. You are far too valuable to try to protect yourself. We can do it, if you'll have us."

  The humor made her eyes water. They were good kids, but did they really think that she had more value than a brood mare? “Er, that's really kind of you—"

  Sensing a rejection, Keg demonstrated a few quick moves. “You see, lady? We are the best of our class. We can protect you well."

  Vana coughed. The boy was very good. Fast and accurate. And so gravely earnest she just wanted to hug him. “Um, yeah. I can see that."

  In a hurry not to be shown up, Keg backed up to give himself room and executed some quick moves. He was graceful for one so young. Even Vana wondered if she could take him in a fair fight. But when the twins got into the act and started showing off, she hurried to distract them. At this rate they'd be staging a full blown tournament, and her bladder wouldn't take much more waiting. “Wow! That's great. Super, even. I tell you what. You guys point me in the direction of the bathroom, and I'll think about it."

  They lit up like she'd promised to introduce them to Santa Claus. All four of them—and one highly amused guard—escorted her to the restrooms and waited outside.

  "Are you hurt badly? You should go to the medic,” Keg said gravely as she limped out.

  The memory of her encounter with that man made her eyes narrow. “I don't think so."

  "Are you a
fraid?” One of the twins, Gamin, asked.

  It never occurred to Vana to censor her words. It was her habit to be as frank with kids as she was with adults, barring certain material. “I don't like him. He made it so I can only have daughters, and I wanted to have a boy, too."

  They blinked at her with identical looks of disbelief.

  "Why would you want that?” Keg finally asked.

  "Because I like the idea of snails and puppy dog tails,” she said a trifle crossly. “Variety is the spice of life, and all that.” She sighed at their odd looks. “Boys are just as important as girls. I like them. I'd like one of my own. Now, thanks to Dagon and that jerk medic of his, I can't have one.” Angry, she turned and stalked toward the exit.

  The light slap of feet behind her warned her before Keg jumped in her way. “Lady,” he said hopefully. “You can have us."

  She frowned, not understanding.

  "Our mothers do not want us. Our father died in battle. You don't have to claim us,” he added with a flush of shyness, “but we can serve you, if you like."

  The others lined up next to him. “Yes! You need guards and pages,” Keg said solemnly. The twins nodded so fast, she feared their heads would fall off.

  She didn't know what to say. No one had ever offered themselves to her before. She didn't even know if what they were doing was legal. Unsure, she glanced at her guard. “Are single women allowed to do such a thing?"

  He looked at her as if she'd grown two heads. “Who would stop them?"

  Well. Bemused, she stared at the boys. They stared back. Gamin bounced, while Keg seemed to be holding his breath. How could she tell them no?

  Chapter 3

  Dagon stared at his little brothers, and the guard which bore witness to their words. It wasn't sinking in. “She did what?"

  "She said she would be honored to serve as our mother,” Keg said with barely suppressed excitement.

  "Lads,” Dagon said slowly, “your mother is still alive."

  "But she said that Lady Vana could have any of her sons that she liked,” Keg said solemnly. “I was nearby when she said it."

  Grieved, Dagon rubbed his jaw and looked away. He'd known for a long time how Ellyn felt, but to hear her say the words....

  But his brothers were excited, and they needed his answer now. Not that his opinion mattered. Vana had accepted them. It only lacked the ceremony to make it official. “If that's what you want, lads."

  Keg whooped. “Now we'll have a mother. Come on, brothers! We need to plan who will be our new father. Then we'll get sisters.... “their voices trailed off as they headed for their apartments.

  Alarmed, Dagon listened to them plot. Did Vana know what she'd brought on herself? He sent for her immediately.

  * * * *

  Vana wondered if she were still sane. That's what she got for thinking with her emotions. How was she supposed to run away after adopting a full brood of alien children? Assuming she could even get home. What would customs think?

  It was hardly a surprise when a guard came to escort her to Dagon. Someone had been bound to object to the impromptu adoption. He probably had a zillion forms for her to fill out, or a lengthy discourse on why it wasn't possible. Secretly, she was a little relieved. Someone like her had no business taking responsibility for four children. She was a captive. Soon to be married off to heaven-knew-who. She'd been crazy to ever say yes. Having talked herself into letting the adoption idea go, she was surprised when Dagon met her at his door without a lecture.

  "Are you sure you can handle this?” He looked tense, but not angry or stern. And he was wearing a jacket that made her avert her eyes in mortification. Or rather, it was the lack of a shirt under it, and the resulting view of his hard body that made it so risqué. Couldn't the man ever wear something that covered him?

  Expecting him to talk her out of it, she eased into the room, but remained standing. “Are you going to tell me that I can't?” It would certainly ease her conscience. Once given, she couldn't go back on her word. Not unless a higher power vetoed it.

  Blue eyes studied her with frank appraisal that was in no way sexual. “I hadn't thought you were the type to take on such a responsibility."

  For some reason that made her blush. “I guess you don't know everything about me."

  He frowned and waved her to his pile of cushions. “You do know that the boys who've petitioned you are my brothers, don't you?"

  In the process of sitting, she lost her balance and went down with a soft whump! “Your brothers?” What kind of wacky place was this? And why would the boys want her when they had him? A shocking thought occurred to her. She looked at Dagon in alarm. “This won't make us mother and son, will it?"

  He looked slightly ill. “No! I am of age. It is only for the boys."

  "Thank God.” That could be really icky. She didn't care to examine why it was important. “But if they have you, then they don't need another guardian. Why would I matter to them?"

  "It is for the prestige. An acting mother is a rare thing. Should you match up with a powerful warrior, it will make them more important in their peer's eyes, as will the birth of sisters, for their friends will grow up to vie for the girl's hands. The better the girl's matches, the more connections and power they will grow to have. Even now they discuss who is the best warrior they know in hopes of introducing you to him. I've no doubt they followed you to the practice room and stood outside your door, waiting to waylay you."

  Nonplussed, she considered that. She was about to adopt budding politicians. “Did they learn these bad habits from you?"

  His answer was a sly smile.

  She sighed. Compassion had prompted her to extend her word to the boys. Honor wouldn't let her take it back. It was disappointing to hear that they hadn't been prompted by a real need for her, but surely her instincts hadn't been that far off. Maybe deep inside, they really did want a mother. The passage of years hadn't stilled the fierce yearning that she still felt for hers. Though they might not admit it, the boys might feel the same.

  It made her edgy that Dagon was their guardian, and that she was about to become the other half. It was too much like ... best not to go there. Determined to go into things with her eyes wide open, she asked, “Who is their mother? Does she really not care what happens to them? I don't want to step on anyone's toes."

  All expression left him. He stroked his chin, half-turned away as he reached for a drink. “You won't. Ellyn herself said you might have any of her sons, did she not?"

  Shock made her eyes widen. Vana didn't know what to say. If Ellyn was his mother, too ... ouch. Now the kids’ search for a new mother made more sense. The woman's callousness toward her sons made Vana want to slap her. “Does she have any more sons? She spoke of fifteen."

  He raised a brow. “Four are not enough for you?"

  "I'm just curious.” That came out a trifle defensively. She hadn't even adopted the first batch yet, and already she was wanting to mother the rest. Why couldn't she listen to her selfish instincts when it really mattered?

  Dagon sighed. “Some of them died in battle. One did not survive childhood."

  Pain upon pain. They were definitely not the Brady Bunch. “I'm sorry. Does anything good ever happen in your family?"

  "Possibly you, though I'm reserving judgment just now,” he said with the hint of a smile.

  The soft light in his eyes made her uneasy. She cleared her throat. “That still leaves a few, doesn't it? Where are they?"

  "The others are with their fathers. Ellyn was not always faithful."

  Gape mouthed, she blinked at him. His revelation was at odds with the reserved, elegant picture she'd formed of Ellyn. “But ... what did your father do about that?"

  "What could he do? She is a woman,” he said harshly. Apparently that said it all. “Why do you act so offended? I saw some of your television programs while I was on Earth. Your women do worse things. As far as I can tell, they have no morals at all."

  She sputtered. “
You can't judge us all by what you saw on TV! Everybody knows that it's filled with garbage. Besides, look at me. You took me because I was—wasn't ... uh.... “Amazed at her own foolishness, she clamped her mouth shut. Had she really almost brought up her virginity with the man? Eager to change the subject, she said, “But that's not right! Ellyn, I mean. You make it sound as if a woman could get away with murder. Isn't there any penalty for these things? I know that women are important to you, but still...."

  A shrewd gleam appeared in his eyes. “Perhaps, as a woman, you could be impartial in these matters. Do you truly believe that a woman would be better tried by a jury of peers?"

  Like she had to think hard to answer that one! “Well, yeah. You guys don't seem to be doing so hot at it."

  The gleam turned into a satisfied, piratical smile. “I'll remember you said that. In the meantime, you have a ceremony to prepare for. We'll hold it at the end of the week. If you change your mind before then, let me know. I won't announce it until the last minute to save you face if you back out."

  The way he said it made her burn. As if she weren't trustworthy enough to stick to her guns. “What do I have to do?"

  "We'll go over it later. In the meantime, spend time with the boys. Make sure you can handle them. We'll talk again later.” He turned his head and waved her out as if she held no more interest for him than a gnat.

  Burning with a surprising amount of resentment over his attitude, she let herself out. The man had a way of pushing her buttons. With any luck, he'd get stuck with a woman who would know how to push back.

  * * * *

  "You should have her tested."

  Dagon looked at Ser over his breakfast table. They'd been friends for many years, yet Ser still managed to surprise him with comments straight from the blue. “Who?"

  "The girl. Vana. I see the way she looks at you when we are in the harem. How quickly she turns away if you look her way. She likes you. I think she's worth testing."

  As a trusted advisor, Ser's opinion held weight. Dagon toyed with a stick of spiced bread as he considered his words. There were many reasons he hadn't let himself romanticize about his future wife. The council was still reviewing the secret video tapes of the women, observing them when they were unaware. It was important to know what they were like when they thought no one was watching. Just as Dagon had been elected for the right to be Tzar, so would his consort have to pass the council's scrutiny. “You think she would make a good queen?"