Catalyst Page 3

  “And we wouldn’t know a thing about that.” Salomen was softening, her hand reaching out for Tal’s as if she wasn’t aware of it.

  Tal gladly laced their fingers together. “But we had our bond driving us. We couldn’t turn it off even when we wanted to. They couldn’t turn it on.”

  “I think I see where this is leading.”

  “I connected them, yes. But I didn’t know what I was subjecting myself to. They had so much power and no control; it was like completing an electrical circuit. I became part of their bond without realizing it. And we did that for fourteen days in a row. Only on the last day did I drop my own blocks and make it a true triad Sharing.”

  “Fourteen days.” Salomen gazed out at the towering columns of clouds they were now flying through. “With both of them. That is…not what I expected.”

  Tal could almost hear her thoughts as she followed the shifting emotions. She braced herself when Salomen met her eyes.

  “I’m not your first tyree.”

  “No. But you are the tyree I was meant to have. What I did with Ekatya and Lhyn…it wasn’t my bond to join, but they had no barriers and I had no idea what I was doing. And none of us wanted to stop.”

  “But then they went home, and you were left behind with a broken tyree bond. Goddess above, now it makes sense—the way you were still so affected a full cycle later.”

  “It wasn’t a full bond,” Tal said. “But yes, it was enough to be debilitating. I didn’t even realize it until I had already made a mess of my life.” She smiled, tightening her grip on Salomen’s hand. “Then I met an obstinate, disrespectful producer who pushed me past every border of propriety, and despite my acting like a dokker’s backside to her, she gave me a shining gift. She understood how I felt, even without knowing the whole story, and she told me that Ekatya was the dream I could only touch.”

  Without releasing their grip, she shifted into the seat beside Salomen and slid her free hand around the curve of her jaw. It was an intimate gesture, half of the hand positioning for a Sharing, and it said more than her words could.

  “But you are the dream I can hold,” she said softly. “And the one who holds me.”

  With an inarticulate sound, Salomen wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss that left no doubt as to which dream was real. Drawing back, she said, “Now I really wish you had told me earlier. Perhaps then I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself jumping to conclusions.”

  The sun pouring in through the ceiling lit up her eyes and brought out their many different shades, darker at the edges and lighter toward the center. The golden ring encircling each pupil was the sort of intimate detail that Tal delighted in, knowing that very few people were privileged to see it.

  “You were never the fool,” she said. “I should have told you.”

  “Yes, you should have. But I know now, and I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “I’m not, if it’s what led me to you.”

  That was exactly the right thing to say. As Salomen leaned in, Tal tilted her head back, offering her throat in full trust. The sudden suction made her breath hitch.

  Salomen let go and blew across the now-warm skin. “I wish I had known you then.”

  “I wish you had, too. Imagine if I had met you instead of Darzen, back when I was first starting to heal.”

  “Well, for one thing, I wouldn’t have stopped you from ordering horten soup.”

  Tal’s laughter was cut short by a gentle bite, followed immediately by the suction that sent her skyward. While she was losing herself in the sensations, the back of her seat began to recline.

  “You do have a golden tongue.” Salomen left the seats in a half-reclined position and straddled Tal’s lap. “You can talk yourself out of any situation, even when I’m angry with you.”

  “Does this mean I’ve talked you out of your clothes?” Tal asked hopefully. “You know that’s what they all think we’re doing in here.”

  “No, but you may have talked yourself out of your clothes.” Salomen’s hands were busy at the buttons on the side of Tal’s wrap shirt, and in another piptick she pulled the top layer away, exposing one breast. “You looked ravishing last night in that bonding suit and breastplate, but I have to say, I prefer this for easier access.” She bent down and took the nipple into her mouth.

  “Oh, Fahla.” Tal’s head slammed against the seat. “And to think I put off this conversation.” Her fingers wound into Salomen’s hair, holding her in place.

  Salomen smiled against her breast, then pulled Tal’s hands away and sat upright. “Let this be a lesson to you, then. Had you told me earlier, we could have done this much sooner.”

  “I’m a grainbird,” Tal said, trying to get her hands loose. She needed them on Salomen’s body.

  “Yes, you are. Which is why you’re not touching me now.” Salomen pushed her hands back. “Hold on to the back of your seat, tyrina.”

  “What?” Her resistance was purely instinctive, a warrior’s reluctance to be at any physical disadvantage. But Salomen’s grip was very strong, and she was using her body weight.

  “I’m not about to reward you for keeping the truth from me.” Salomen’s efforts won out as she pressed Tal’s wrists against the top of the seat. “Hold on to this if you want me to go any further.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not, and you know it.” She leaned in for a deep, possessive kiss, then slowly pulled away. “It’s your choice. Either you let me take control, or I fasten your shirt again and we bring everyone in here to attack those platters.” Releasing Tal’s wrists, she sat back and waited.

  Tal was caught in an agony of indecision. She loved it when Salomen was assertive, but this was a step beyond. She had never completely given up control before, and it was not an easy role to accept.

  But that was the point, she realized. Salomen had something to prove. If it were easy, it would have little value.

  Silently, she turned her wrists and rested her fingers on the top of the seat.

  Salomen’s smile was somehow predatory and loving at the same time. “Good choice, my Lancer.”

  She unfastened Tal’s trousers, then slid to the floor and began pulling off her boots. It was an act of humility that Tal had hated for most of her life, having been forced in her early training to remove the boots of any older trainee who demanded it. Salomen had memorably redefined its significance the night of their first joining, when she made it an act between equals.

  Now she was redefining it again. Tal discovered that having her boots pulled off while she was in this position, with her hands above her shoulders and her body presented as a gift to be opened, put all of the humility squarely back on her. The feeling intensified when Salomen told her in a no-nonsense tone to lift her hips, and her trousers and underwear joined the boots and socks on the floor.

  “Open your legs,” Salomen said. It was all the warning she gave before she gracefully dropped to her knees and leaned forward.

  “Oh,” Tal whispered, jolted by the touch of her tongue. “I thought you would—”

  A bite just this side of painful interrupted her, and when she felt long fingers slide inside, she forgot most of her vocabulary.

  Keeping her hands still was far more difficult than she expected. But the enforced passivity enhanced her other perceptions, adding a layer that felt raw and dangerous—and all the more pleasurable because of it.

  Salomen’s presence in their link took on a fierce edge. Despite being fully dressed and untouched, her arousal was not far behind Tal’s as she took her to the brink and then withdrew, not allowing her to finish. With sure hands and a devastating touch, she eased Tal back into a rhythm, pushed her to the edge again…and again withdrew.

  The third time Tal was denied, she thought her fingers might punch through the seat fabric. She bit her lip r
ather than ask.

  “I know this is killing you, but you are so competitive,” Salomen murmured as she rose from the floor. “And so damned beautiful looking like this.”

  She straddled Tal, who by now had been driven high enough that the mere brush of Salomen’s trousers against her molwine made her gasp and arch her back. Then she gasped again at the bite on her throat ridge.

  “I’ve been neglecting these terribly,” Salomen said into her ear. “And you refuse to ask me to finish you, so we’ll do this the hard way.” She began a slow rocking with her hips, applying delicious pressure while simultaneously working her way along the length of first one throat ridge and then the other.

  Gradually she ramped up the intensity of her bites, but kept the same damnably slow pace with her hips until Tal was trembling beneath her, desperate for her release and silently praying that Salomen would not stop a fourth time.

  “Ask,” Salomen said, and bit down so hard that Tal nearly lost her grip on the seat.

  “Ask,” she said again, and began to suck where she had just bitten.

  “Goddess,” Tal choked out.

  “No. Ask me.” She bit down once more and this time did not let go.

  “Salomen—” Tal strained her hips upward, trying to increase the pressure. Her fingers were going numb.

  Salomen surged against her without relenting from the power of her bite. It was almost more than Tal could bear…and then it abruptly became too much.

  “Please!”

  The sudden absence of pressure on her throat ridge nearly pushed her over the brink. A shudder ran through her body.

  “Let go,” Salomen said. “Hold on to me.”

  With a groan of utter gratitude, she wrapped her arms around Salomen and held her close. “Fahla, I need you.”

  “I know. Hold on.” Salomen slid her hands beneath Tal’s shoulders and shifted into a higher gear, her hips moving twice as fast as before. She lowered her head and returned to the throat ridges, this time sucking just firmly enough to keep the sensitivity high without distracting from the deeper pleasure of her thrusts.

  Tal could not keep her hands still, her previous inability to touch making her starved for it now. She pressed and rubbed and squeezed, worshipping the curves and planes that made up this precious body. When the release finally roared through her, she pushed Salomen’s head up and kissed her, crying out into her mouth. Shaken by the aftershocks, she buried her face in the warm fragrance of Salomen’s throat and thought she might never leave this place.

  Salomen remained still, stroking her hair and the back of her neck and murmuring words that Tal could not process. Gradually, sense returned, and she heard “my beautiful tyree” and “even more stubborn than me, but I love you anyway.”

  The last made her laugh. “I am not more stubborn than you.”

  Salomen kissed the top of her head. “You put yourself through torment just to avoid asking me to finish you.”

  “But it was a very pleasant sort of torment.”

  “I know. I felt it.” Salomen’s amusement shook her body. “And Great Goddess, but you were glorious like that.”

  Tal finally pulled back enough to look in her eyes, which were full of love and an only partially slaked lust. “You didn’t have anything to prove to me.”

  A knowing smile brought out the lines at the sides of Salomen’s mouth. “Perhaps I had something to prove to myself.”

  “Did you succeed?”

  “Oh, yes. Fabulously.”

  “Good.” Tal snuggled in again. “You’re overdressed.”

  “I’m fine. We do eventually have to let our guests in, you know. I didn’t plan to spend half the flight joining with you.”

  “Let’s shove the platters out into the corridor and lock the door.”

  “Yes, because that would be the height of courtesy, and who would explain it to Jaros?”

  “Oh, Fahla.” Tal suddenly remembered who was on the other side of the bulkhead behind her. “I’ve never been so glad that this cabin is soundproofed.”

  Salomen laughed, kissed her one more time, and pushed herself onto her feet. “Much as I love making you sound like that, I’m very happy not to have to answer any questions. That job I’m leaving to Nikin when the time comes.” She leaned down and refastened the top layer of Tal’s shirt. “I feel as if I should apologize to your other breast. Poor thing never even got free.”

  Tal rubbed the side of her throat, where the hot skin was evidence of numerous marks. “I think you made up for it with my throat ridges.”

  Salomen scooped up the underwear and held it out. “I’d apologize for that, but I’m not one bit sorry.”

  “No, you’re proud as a moonbird in full feather.” Tal rose and began dressing. “I’ll be going out there covered in bite marks while your throat is pristine.”

  Salomen offered the trousers with an unrepentant smile. “It’s a bonding break, Andira. They expect it.”

  “I’m going to get teased,” Tal grumbled as she settled the trousers in place. “Micah will be positively gleeful.” She pressed the control to bring the seats back into their normal position, then sat down to pull on her socks and boots. “And if you wanted to avoid Jaros asking any questions, you made a tactical error.”

  The realization washed over Salomen’s face, and now it was Tal’s turn to laugh. “Didn’t think about that, did you?”

  “Shek,” Salomen muttered. Then she brightened. “No matter. It’s Nikin’s job anyway. He’ll just have to do it a little sooner than he might have planned.”

  Now fully dressed, Tal stood and drew Salomen into a warmron. “Thank you, tyrina,” she said quietly. “Both for that lovely joining and for understanding.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for giving me what I asked for. I know it wasn’t easy for you—either part of it.”

  Tal nodded, suddenly serious. It had to be said. “It’s still there. That piece of a tyree bond between Ekatya and me.”

  “I know.”

  “I swear I had no idea—”

  “I know that, too. It’s all right.”

  “It doesn’t change anything.”

  “Yes, it does.” Salomen ran soothing fingers through Tal’s hair as she spoke. “I don’t know how, and don’t worry, I’m not afraid of it. It’s only a piece, and what you and I have is beautiful and whole. But the truth is that you and Ekatya are not just friends, and if this little piece of a bond has survived seventeen moons of separation, then you will never be just friends. You created something permanent.”

  “I know,” Tal said. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

  “And this is where you keep making the same mistake. It’s not for you to do anything, not by yourself. This isn’t about you. It’s not even about you and Ekatya. It involves all four of us, and we will all decide if anything needs to be done.”

  Tal stared at her, and Salomen shook her head with a smile.

  “Come, my Lancer. Time to stop being rude and give our guests a chance to enjoy that food.” She laced their fingers together and tugged her toward the door.

  “Wait!” Tal let go and diverted to the cabinets to the left of the door, where she pressed a hidden control.

  “What is that?”

  “Air circulation. No need for Nikin to answer any more questions than necessary.”

  This time, Salomen actually blushed.

  CHAPTER 4:

  Mahaite Island

  Lanaril watched the island flashing beneath them, fascinated by the rise and fall of the landscape and its varying textures after a hantick spent flying over the ocean. It was hard to believe how many cycles had passed since she last visited Mahaite Island, on a celebratory trip after completing her novice studies. She had been twenty then, an official adult at last, with a certificate of academic honor in one hand and an admissions
letter to the Whitesun Academy of Templars in the other. She and four friends had come here to swim, hike, drink, and join before burying themselves in another five cycles of study.

  “It’s lovely,” Lhyn said, leaning halfway over Lanaril’s lap to stare out the window. “When I first saw Mahaite Island from orbit, I thought it looked like an upside-down hand with six fingers, and three of those fingers are trying to grab Pica Mahal.”

  Lanaril smiled. “There’s a legend that the volcano on Pica Mahal is the beating heart of Mahaite. But Mahaite fell in love with a different island, one that sank beneath the waves, and when he lost his love, he tore out his heart and threw it away. It hurt too much to keep it. Since then, he has regretted his impulsive act and always reaches out to pull his heart back. But he threw it too far, and it has remained forever out of his reach.”

  “Probably a good thing for Mahaite, given how many times his heart has erupted. Have you ever been there?”

  “Shortly after my Rite of Ascension, yes. My friends and I thought we could climb to the top of the volcano in one day. We took a ferry from the eastern tip of Dahal Ridge—that’s the northernmost finger on the east side of Mahaite. It’s only a hantick by ferry from there to Pica Mahal, and the trail up the volcano starts right out of the ferry terminal.”

  “Did you make it to the top?”

  “Yes, after our guide laughed at our intentions and booked us into a shelter just below the summit. We were young and stupid, and forgot that after climbing to the top of a mountain, we would eventually have to come down.”

  They were in one of the rows that had facing seats, and Ekatya sat next to the window in the seat opposite Lanaril. “What time did you reach the summit?” she asked.

  “Shortly before sunset.”

  As Ekatya chuckled, Lhyn said, “Young and stupid is right. Good thing you hired a guide.”