CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

VESPER

K yrion and I stayed on the floor, shuddering against each other as we both found our release. Sometime later, I rolled off him so that I was lying on my back, the same as him.

"Well, I've discovered something new," I said once my heart rate and breathing had slowed back down to normal.

Kyrion propped himself up on his elbow. "What's that?"

A satisfied smile stretched across my face. "I rather like forgetting," I declared, then crooked my finger at him. "Want to do it again?"

Kyrion gave me a wicked grin. "Absolutely."

His hands went around behind my back, while mine dropped to his chest. Various tugs and yanks and curses ensued on both sides, but neither one of us was having much luck.

"Why does your gown have so many bloody buttons?" he growled, wrestling with the tiny row of them down my back.

"I could say the same thing about your blasted tailcoat," I muttered.

We both struggled for a few more seconds, then Kyrion growled again, got to his feet, and held out his hand. I grabbed his fingers, and he pulled me up from the floor so that we were both back on our feet. I'd taken my heels off as soon as I'd come into the suite earlier, but he was still wearing his boots.

Kyrion stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, as though he was considering something important. Then he flicked his fingers and used his telekinesis to open all the buttons on the back of my gown in one long, quick, continuous motion.

Cool air hit my bare back, and I laughed with delight. "Show me how to do that with your telekinesis."

"Here I am," Kyrion teased, holding his arms out wide. "Yours for the ravishing. All you need to do is get rid of some simple buttons. Surely you can figure out how to do that, my lady."

"I think we've both already ravished each other, but point taken."

Kyrion's pants were wide open, but his tailcoat was still securely fastened across his chest. I eyed the rows of buttons gleaming on the garment. He was right. The Erztonians used far too many tiny buttons.

"Perhaps you need some more motivation," he said, a low, husky promise in his voice. "For each garment you remove from me, I will reward you in turn."

"What kind of reward?"

He grinned. "Oh, leave that up to me."

My eyes narrowed. He knew I could never resist a challenge. I stepped forward and reached for Kyrion's telekinesis. To my surprise, his magic came to me easily, and I dropped my gaze and focused on his right boot. The top button began to work its way open . . .

But then his magic slipped away, like water trickling through my fingers. I bit my tongue, trying to hide my frustration.

"You can do it, Vesper," Kyrion said. "I know you can."

The sticky cobweb of him in my mind pulsed with confidence. I blew out a breath, tamped down my frustration, and tried again. A fresh wave of his magic poured into me, and the entire row of buttons on the side of his boot popped open one after another.

Triumph flashed through me, and Kyrion pulled off that boot and set it aside.

"Where's my reward?" I demanded.

Kyrion grinned, then stepped around behind me. The back of my gown was still gaping open, and he slid it down my body so that it pooled on the floor at my feet. Kyrion moved forward, so close that the heat of his body mixed with my own, and slid his hand down the curve of my spine in a light, teasing caress. I shivered in response.

Kyrion stepped back in front of me again. "Your turn."

Once again, his telekinesis came to me easily, and I undid the buttons on his left boot. Kyrion took it off, along with his socks, then moved around behind me again. I was still wearing a strapless corset, and once again, he trailed his finger down my back, using his telekinesis to pop those buttons open. The corset joined my gown on the floor, along with the rest of my undergarments.

"Removing my clothes is not a reward," I groused.

"I never said it was." He pushed my hair to one side, then planted a kiss on my neck, making me shiver again.

Kyrion stepped back in front of me. "Your turn."

This time, I barely had to reach for his magic before the row of buttons on his tailcoat started popping open. Kyrion shrugged out of the coat, then yanked off the frilly shirt underneath, which, thankfully, was button-free.

He tossed both garments aside, then stepped out of his pants and undergarments, so that we stood naked before each other. My fingers itched with the urge to explore the hard planes of his body, but I merely arched my eyebrow at him again.

"Reward?"

"Hmm. Let me think."

Kyrion circled around behind me again. His breath tickled the back of my neck, and I balled my hands into fists to keep from reaching for him.

"I can feel you back there, looming behind me."

"I thought you enjoyed my looming." Kyrion snaked his hands around my body, reaching up to cup my breasts. "Or was I wrong about that?"

Pleasure spiked through me, and I gasped and arched back, giving him better access. "I do rather enjoy your looming."

"Mmm." His satisfied murmur rumbled against my skin. "I thought so."

His fingers moved up, squeezing and tweaking my nipples. More pleasure spiked through me, sizzling through my veins and liquefying into molten heat that pooled between my thighs.

Kyrion nipped and licked and kissed my neck, still caressing my breasts all the while. My hands dropped down and clutched his thighs.

"Sometimes I hate you for teasing me," I grumbled, arching into his touch even more.

His hands stilled, although his fingers tightened, and he drew me a little closer. "I love the way you hate me," Kyrion replied in a hoarse voice. "It's so delightful."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he spun me around and lowered his lips to mine. I surged forward, tangling my fingers in his hair, my tongue darting out to meet his. Kyrion growled and lifted me off my feet. He took a few quick strides, set me down, and pressed my back up against the permaglass wall. Then he broke off our kiss and went down on his knees.

Kyrion gave me a wicked grin, then leaned forward and kissed the inside of my right thigh, then my left. My entire body trembled with anticipation, and I flattened my hands against the glass wall.

Kyrion's grin widened, then he leaned forward and put his mouth on me. I gasped again, and my entire body arched out to meet his touch. His tongue, his fingers, his breath skimming against my skin. Fire boiled through my veins, and it was too much and not enough at the same time.

"Yes . . . Kyr . . . more . . ." All I could do was mindlessly moan his name, my hands sliding against the glass wall in time to his quick strokes and slow licks.

Kyrion growled low in his throat, his own pleasure vibrating along the bond to me. Just when I thought he was going to push me over the edge, he surged to his feet and picked me up off my feet again.

Kyrion's eyes were almost completely black with desire. "Vesper . . ." he rasped. "I want . . . I need . . ."

I looped my arms around his neck and locked my legs around his waist, drawing him closer. Kyrion shuddered and put my back against the glass wall again. His gaze locked with mine, and he thrust inside me.

He groaned, and I nipped the side of his neck with my teeth. Kyrion rocked his hips forward again and again, thrusting into me, while I clutched his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin and urging him on.

"Ahh . . . Kyr . . . yes . . ."

That molten heat became hotter still, until I was gasping from the intense, crackling pleasure. Through the bond, I could feel an orgasm building inside Kyrion, keeping time with my own burgeoning desire.

Kyrion thrust into me again, deeper than before, and all that heat and energy and sensation erupted, flowing from me to him and back again in a cascade of white-hot pleasure.

"Vesper," Kyrion murmured against my neck. "Vesper."

I clutched him tighter, and once again, we both forgot everything else—except for each other.

S ometime later, Kyrion and I made it over to the bed and fell asleep. Sometime after that, I started to dream.

The castle, the library, the stairs down to the round room of my mindscape, with its doors, blue-moon peonies, and sapphsidian eyes. I walked through it all and stepped into the waiting darkness beyond. Once again, I wound up at my psionic nexus, and the eye-shaped sapphsidian altar was the same as always, right down to the lunarium eyes and arrows floating on the surface.

The last time I'd been here, I'd grabbed one of the eyes and hurled it into the darkness, and it had zipped back to the table like a boomerang. I had no desire to injure myself in my own mindscape, so this time, I gently, carefully, picked up one of the eyes and cupped it in my palms.

The opalescent lunarium sparked with color, and the stone itself gave off a pleasant, tingling warmth. I reached out with my magic, tightened my grip, and stared down at the eye, willing it to move, twitch, vibrate, maybe even fill me with some great wisdom or show me a startling new insight . . .

Nothing happened.

The eye just sat on my palms, shimmering with color and warmth. Was that all it did? If the nexus just sat here in the heart of my darkness, then what was the point of it being in my mindscape at all?

Disappointed, I dropped the eye back down onto the table, and the lunarium piece plopped into the sapphsidian like a raindrop hitting a lake. The shimmering eye disappeared below the dark blue surface for a moment before bobbing back up to the top.

More disgust surged through me. Why did I keep coming here and wasting my time?

I spun around on my heel, left the nexus and the darkness behind, and returned to the round room of my mindscape.

Useless child . . . Nerezza's voice hissed from its usual doorway.

I glanced at the memory, but it didn't ignite as much heartache as usual. My mother's long-ago insult was an old wound, and right now, I was much more concerned with the new wounds the Zimmers might inflict on me—

A door to my right flung itself open, and images started playing on the other side—my talk with the Zimmers earlier in the library. I hesitated, not wanting to relive that memory since it was so painfully fresh, but I stood in front of the door and watched the whole conversation again.

Beatrice's explanations. Wendell's pleas. Zane's quips.

My gaze lingered on Zane. Instead of crowing about how he'd supposedly helped Kyrion and me escape from Crownpoint, Zane had downplayed his role, and he'd cut off Wendell when his father had started to offer up more examples of Zane's supposed aid.

Yet again, that annoying spark of hope flared in my chest. If Zane really had helped Kyrion and me even before he'd known I was his sister . . . then maybe, just maybe, my brother wasn't the villain I thought he was. Maybe he actually had some tiny bits of decency buried deep inside his arrogant exterior. Maybe he really did care about me, at least as much as one could care about the sister they'd only known about for a few weeks.

That spark of hope burned a little brighter, but I was determined not to be fooled again. So I decided to approach the situation the way I would test a new brewmaker in the R&D lab.

Hope, but verify.

I went around my mindscape, waving my right hand, opening and closing first one door, then another, then another . . . until I found my memories of the midnight ball.

I stood in front of the open door and watched it all play out. My confrontation with Nerezza. Holloway taking some of Kyrion's magic. My yanking the butterfly dagger out of my hair and stabbing Dargan Byrne with it. Kyrion and me unleashing our truebond. Our psionic lightning crackling through the throne room like a violent electrical storm. Then Kyrion and me running through the palace, boarding the Dream World , and zooming away from Crownpoint . . .

A frustrated growl rumbled in my throat. I'd already seen everything that had happened from my point of view. I wanted to know what Zane had done.

Wait. I was a seer. Why couldn't I do that? My magic often surged up and showed me things I hadn't witnessed in person, like Esmina shoving Micah off the bridge at Stardrop Falls. So why couldn't I do the same thing now? When I actually wanted to?

I stalked over to the door that featured the large stylized Z of House Zimmer—Zane's door. "Show me Zane."

Nothing happened. The door remained shut, and the blue opals and sapphsidian pieces that made up the Z sigil glimmered at me like mocking eyes.

"Show me Zane," I called out again, my voice louder and more insistent.

Once again, nothing happened, although the jewels glimmered a little more brightly.

"Show me Zane!" This time, I snarled the words, putting as much effort, force, and magic into the command as possible.

But for the third time, nothing happened . . .

A gust of wind howled through my mindscape, whipping the blue-moon peonies back and forth on their long black vines. The jewels on the door burned so brightly I thought they might catch fire. Then the door flung itself open, hitting the wall behind it with a loud bang .

Images started playing, still showing the midnight ball, but this time, Zane was front and center.

Zane in a shadowy corridor, passing the jeweled butterfly dagger to Inga, the palace servant who'd done my hair and makeup for the ball. Zane in the throne room, watching Kyrion and me trying to reach each other, despite the Imperium soldiers attempting to drag us apart. Zane discreetly flicking his fingers, his pale eyes glowing just a bit. A tiny wave of telekinetic power snaking off him and slithering in between first me and then Kyrion and the soldiers attempting to pin us to the floor. Then Zane and Kyrion fighting, and Zane dropping his sword a fraction of an inch so Kyrion could wound him . . .

Shock punched into my heart, and I staggered back a few steps. Zane really had helped us. He'd given the butterfly dagger to Inga and slowed the soldiers' pursuit, just as Wendell had claimed. But the most surprising thing was that Zane had used his own telekinesis to knock the soldiers aside so Kyrion and I could finally reach each other.

Ever since I'd first met them at a Regal ball a few months ago, I'd had a nagging sense that the Zimmers were going to be a problem—that Zane was going to be a problem. But the cold, hard truth was that Kyrion and I would never have been able to unleash our truebond without Zane's help. We wouldn't have been able to escape the palace, and we probably would still be trapped in Crownpoint to this day . . .

As soon as that thought popped into my mind, images of the midnight ball melted away, and a large permaglass cell appeared. The cell was divided into two sections, with me on one side and Kyrion on the other. Both of us were sitting on the floor and slumped up against the center wall, our backs together, even though we couldn't touch each other through the thick glass.

A man stood in front of the cell, watching us both with a cruel, satisfied grin. Brown hair with a few silver threads, tan skin, and bronze eyes that gleamed as brightly as noontime suns with the magic he'd just stolen from us. Power rippled off Callus Holloway and washed over me out in my mindscape, and the sensation made me sick to my stomach.

Holloway snapped his fingers at a scientist wearing a white lab coat and clutching a tablet. "How long until they are ready for me to drain them again?"

This must be the future that would have happened if Zane hadn't helped us. I shuddered. Holloway taking our magic over and over was even more horrific than I'd thought. I didn't know how much time had passed in that version of the future, but Kyrion and I were both obviously on the brink of death, and yet Holloway still wanted more of our power. Greedy, sadistic bastard—

Kyrion murmured something in his sleep, shattering my connection to my mindscape. He rolled over and drew me into his arms, the warmth of his body soaking into my own.

My eyes snapped open. I was back in the real world in our bedroom at the Collier estate. I tried to go back to sleep and return to my mindscape, but I couldn't drift back into my dream world.

Kyrion had been right. Zane had done everything in his power to help us escape from Holloway. An unexpected bit of happiness pulsed through me, although it was quickly drowned out by my simmering anger at Beatrice for abandoning me.

I didn't know how to reconcile my brother's recent aid with my grandmother's dismissal all those years ago. And worst of all, I couldn't shake this nagging sense of dread that no matter what I did, or how I tried to protect myself, Zane, Beatrice, and Wendell would still end up breaking my heart sooner or later.