Samhain Publishing Ltd, Ebooks and Books in Print

He had come. This man had heard her call and responded. Janeth would have leaped up and wrapped herself around him, but she wasn’t physically capable of such exuberance right now—and she didn’t want to scare him off. There was still the possibility of failure. His response to her call proved his empathic compatibility, but that didn’t mean he would like her or be attracted to her.

His presence and her joyous relief gave her enough energy to sit up slowly, carefully. She put her feet on the ground and leaned forward, eager to meet this potential mate.

He was strong, hard. Confident. But weathered by life, by pain and disappointment. He was a survivor, with a core that was strong and clear, glowing with inherent integrity. The joining could be joyful with such a partner.

His hair was thick, somewhat shaggy, warm brown with reddish and blond highlights, and his eyes were soft green. He was at home in his strong, firm body, which hinted at athletic or martial training, and his clothes were comfortable and loose.

Janeth breathed a sigh of relief. This was a man she could welcome as her mate. The goddess had been good to her—or maybe it was finally her turn for good luck, after the last disastrous week.

“Please have a seat.” She waved her hand at the simple wooden chair sitting at the table.

He hesitated, but finally settled down on the chair, his legs spread, feet firmly on the floor, arms crossed. “Who are you? What do you want of me? Are you sure you have the right man?”

She smiled. “I’m sure. Would you honor me with your name?”

“Tom. Tom Domdil K’Restan. And yours?”

“Janeth Dewellin.” Exhaustion swirled through her, and she held out her hand in greeting—and to absorb some of his empathic energy. “I’m pleased to meet you.” It was rude to take without permission, but she was going to do much more than that. No sense in balking at little things.

He took her hand in his warm, powerful grasp, holding hers as though it were fragile enough to break. Her need sucked in his energy, a stream of warmth and health and hope. Her skin tingled. Just enough to go on, that was all she would take. She took a deep breath and pulled away.

He stretched his fingers, examining them with a frown, and then looked at her. “Who are you?”

She couldn’t answer that—it was forbidden, in order to keep the existence of her people and their planet concealed from the rest of the galaxy. She couldn’t tell him that she needed to have sex with him to bind them together empathically in the equivalent of marriage. He would certainly think she was nuts—and refuse.

The truth would not work here. What could she tell him?

With the stolen energy, she brushed over the surface of his mind, searching for information that would allow her to construct a satisfactory answer. She wasn’t a telepath; she couldn’t read specific thoughts. But some kinds of emotional constructs held enough information to draw conclusions, and concepts like home and family and work tended to have decipherable contexts. This man was not married, and was not from this planet. The emotions he had toward it were shallow and recent.

But she couldn’t tell his occupation. He seemed to travel frequently. Could he be a trader?

She had to come up with some way to get him to spend enough time with her so she could entrap him with the other effects of plenerty. Perhaps she could try to tempt him with the telayin gems she had brought with her to pay for her travel. Nothing else came to mind.

“I represent a…consortium that is looking for someone reliable to handle regular shipments of telayin jewels.” Any trader in this sector of the galaxy would give his eyeteeth, sell his firstborn, for a chance to trade telayin. The bait had the great advantage of holding large elements of truth. It was a closely kept secret, like the existence of her race, but her people were the source for all telayin.

Tension vibrated through his body and he rubbed his palms on the sides of his shipsuit. “Telayin? You have proof of this?”

She picked up her satchel, set it on the bed next to her, and pulled out a small leather case containing a velvet shield-cloth bag. She emptied the contents into her hand and held out the jewels for him to examine. They pulsed in her hand—ruby, carnelian, sapphire—radiating familiar emotions.

He ran his hand a short distance above the jewels and breathed in sharply. “These are the real thing, all right. Where did you get them?”

She smiled slightly. “You don’t really expect me to tell you that.”

“Why are you showing these to me?”

“Are you a trader?”

He hesitated. “No, not really. Though I suppose for telayin jewels I might make an exception.”

She shrugged. “Then you are in the right place.”

He wasn’t quite satisfied, she could see that. But as long as he was interested enough to spend more time in her company, that would be enough. Relieved but not surprised, she poured the jewels back into their special bag. The pull on her emotions faded.

She needed Tom. She didn’t have the leisure to pick and choose and consider her choice, rejecting unsuitable candidates, and she wasn’t on Lorelly, where everybody, even the majority of the population who weren’t actively empathic, understood the process of plenerty and mating.

The need had come over her unexpectedly. It should have been at least six more months before she started plenerty. Perhaps the stress of the search for her brother had brought it on early, but more likely it was yet another effect of the empathic weirdness here. It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence that both she and her brother had suddenly gone into plenerty long ahead of schedule.

So here she was, looking eagerly at this stranger.