The Necklace Read online

  Marissa swallowed, her face heating with emotion. If she didn’t know how deeply this man cared for her, if she had ever doubted the sincerity of his emotions. She could see it clearly now.

  It was written all over his face.

  “I’m sorry, Tylan. I just wanted to get out for a while,” she murmured.

  Tylan sighed against her skin before enfolding her in his arms. He squeezed tightly, like he was afraid to lose her.

  “I appreciate your apology, leethil. But do not think you will escape punishment for this.”

  Marissa started, drawing back from his embrace. “What are you talking about?”

  Anger blazed in his eyes. “We’ll talk about it later,” he responded, his voice composed.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong!” she exclaimed. “And I don’t know who you think you are to punish me like some wayward child. I just wanted to get out for a moment.”

  “Go and wait outside, Marissa. I must speak with Zaron.”

  “Y-you’re dis-dismissing me?” she stammered, stepping back from Tylan, just in case she had to slap his arrogant face.

  “Wait outside, sena. I will be along shortly.”

  Staring at Tylan, sensing his resolve, she snapped, “Don’t you dare take your anger with me out on him. He was only trying to help.”

  “Go. Now. Marissa.”

  Glaring once more at Tylan, Marissa switched her angry gaze to Zaron. The infuriating man looked like he was trying to hold back a smile.

  Whatever nice thoughts she had about him evaporated under a cloud of anger.

  Snarling her frustration, she stormed out the bar with her head held high.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Tylan kept a watchful eye on his mate until the guards closed rank around her, leading her through the doors.

  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to still the fury stampeding inside his body. He had never been so afraid in his life. After returning to their room to find that Marissa had vanished, he nearly tore the palace, and two of the warriors assigned to protect her, apart at the seams. He’d been searching the city for the better part of an hour.

  Fortunately, or in this case, unfortunately, she had become a lot more adept at blocking her thoughts than he gave her credit for.

  Turning his eyes away from the dirty walls and even dirtier patrons, who still knelt on the littered floor, he inclined his head toward Zaron and waved an arm around, signaling that everyone could rise.

  “I owe you a debt of gratitude for sending word of my wife’s whereabouts, Zaron of Creeton.”

  Zaron nodded stiffly. “I only did what any Eritrean would have done in the defense of the Queen, my Lord.”

  “Nevertheless, I still owe you.”

  “Think no more of it, your Majesty. It was no great hardship.”

  Tylan narrowed his eyes, thinking that Zaron didn’t seem his usual surly self. Plus, though he was grateful for the senator’s protection of Marissa, it didn’t explain how he happened to end up in exactly the same place she had. Nor did it explain why a Creeton politician would be in one of Eritrea’s seediest and most notorious watering holes to begin with.

  After the news Omea had brought from the surface, it was obvious that someone with government connections had plotted the disappearance and subsequent capture of the delaphin, even going so far as to attack member of the royal guard to ensure the success of their plan. He hadn’t wanted to believe Omea’s assertion at first, but the signs were too plentiful to dismiss.

  Zaron’s adamant and vocal objections to his policies made him, at least in Cowan’s considerations, the most likely person willing to carrying out a plan of such magnitude.

  His hatred of the Dissidents was well known. Plus, the grief over his family’s deaths drove him with a blazing fire of loathing that made Zaron devious and dangerous.

  “It was fortunate that you were in the vicinity. What were you doing here?” Tylan asked, his question direct, without any hint of subtlety.

  “I saw your Queen walking on the streets. When I realized she was traveling without guards. I followed her here.”

  Tylan smiled faintly, not believing a word. “Then I guess it was a good thing you were around, Senator Zaron.”

  “Yes it was, your Majesty. A very good thing,” he replied, bowing low.

  Tylan nodded, and turned to leave without a word of goodbye. Pausing, he let his eyes roam over each and every patron inside the dank, dark bar.

  Most of them glanced away when his gaze focused on them, but one in particular stared at him directly.

  Strangely, when he tried to pierce the man’s thoughts, he encountered a very strong gyree.

  Most of the common class could not enact that strong of a shield, especially since the training was expensive, and exclusive to those of higher means. He could pierce it if he tried, but it would most likely kill the man, or at the very least send him into a coma. Frowning, he stared a moment longer before turning to leave the bar.

  Cowan, track the senator’s movements, and find out about everyone in this …establishment. He was here to meet someone. Find out who it is.

  I have already assigned warriors for the task, my Lord.

  Is Marissa still outside?

  There was a long gap of silence in his mind before Cowan answered. She is on her way back to the palace, my Lord. The guards are with her, though. She was very adamant about leaving. I really couldn’t dissuade her.

  Say no more. Tylan laughed aloud, causing several gazes to slide his way as he continued striding toward the door. I think I’m beginning to understand your reluctance to find a mate now, Cowan.

  Reluctance? Ha! I’ll leave the mating game to you, Tylan. I have no desire for this drama in my life.

  So you say now, my friend. I hope you don’t ever have to eat your words.

  Have no fear about that, my Lord.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  It was déjà vu all over again!

  The pacing, the frustration, the sense of unfairness.

  How was it that every aspect of her life always seemed to boil down to these three major aspects? She was smart, intelligent, and capable of handling most tasks thrown at her. Yet, repeatedly, it often came down to her inabilities instead of her capabilities.

  Marissa was so mad and confused, her vision blurred and her feet hurt from pounding against the hard surface of the floor. She wanted to blame someone. Strike out in rage.

  Why did the people in her life feel it was their exclusive right to wrap her in cotton wool? She was a grown woman. She didn’t need anyone’s protection, no matter how well-meant it was.

  And, to add insult to injury, every corner she turned was built on a pack of lies. Why did everyone try to hide things from her? Dammit! Her entire life had been built on deceit. She deserved the truth!

  “Perhaps people hide it from you because they are afraid you cannot handle it.”

  Startled, Marissa jerked her head around, her skin crawling as fear, then embarrassment, worked through her nerves.

  “I thought I was here by myself,” she breathed, a little more than just distressed to see that woman emerging from the shadows.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you, my Lady. I thought you heard me enter.”

  “I seem to have acquired a knack for people sneaking up on me. Don’t worry about it,” she said, lifting her lips in what she knew didn’t even come close to a smile.

  “Perhaps you and I can become friends. So next time I come upon you unawares, you won’t think I’m sneaking.” A slow smile, a true smile, spread across the woman’s face, highlighting pearly white, straight teeth. “My name is Baline. I’m the…”

  “The Healer. I know. Tylan told me.”

  “Call me Baline. The Healer is so formal, as is your Majesty. I think you and I have enough history to progress beyond all that.”

  Marissa rolled her eyes, vividly recalling moments of their history. Embarrassed, she turned away from Baline, walking along the large panel
of murals painted on the walls.

  “Look, I’m sure you can read my mind. So you must know that I am not really comfortable thinking about all that.”

  “Why? Are you bothered by your sexuality?”

  “Noooo. I’m just a little uncomfortable with the fact that I got it on with a woman. I’m not gay, you know,” she snorted, whirling around angrily.

  “So does that mean you can’t enjoy a bit of gratification?”

  Marissa felt the tension inside her snap. “Why does everything with you people boil down to sex?”

  “I would say most of the important things in life boil down to sex, Marissa. Physical love, children, pleasure. Don’t you think those are important?”

  Closing her eyes, Marissa rubbed a hand across her brows as she huffed a frustrated breath of air.

  “Great. Psychobabble bullshit. Just what I want I hear right now.”

  “But I’m not here to tell you what you want to hear. You do that with yourself enough. I really don’t need to join in the fray.”

  Slanting her eyes toward Baline, anger bringing her lids down till they narrowed, her vision hazed with fury.

  “You know, I really wanted to be alone. But since you feel so compelled to intrude on my private time, I’ll leave. You can talk to yourself if you want.”

  “Before you walk away in denial, I think you should hear what I have to say. It could help you through the trials in your mind.”

  “Save it, ménage girl. I got better things to do.”

  “It’s about your mother. Your birth mother,” Baline called out. “I know you have thought of her.”

  She stopped short, stumbling.

  Marissa couldn’t deny that since she had discovered the truth, she’d often thought of mother … her real mother. But, she didn’t have enough pieces to connect the dots, and usually dismissed the thoughts from her mind.

  Inside, she felt a horribly disloyal to the woman who had raised her.

  “You knew her?” she asked, curiosity replacing her anger.

  “Yes, quite well.”

  “How do you even know who she is? I don’t have any memories of her.” She shook her head, refusing to turn around. “I think you’re lying.”

  “Then walk away, and don’t bother to listen.”

  Breathing harshly, unable to deny the feelings burgeoning in her chest, Marissa turned around fully facing Baline.

  “Okay. Tell me then.”

  Strangely, her mind flooded with visions. There was a girl with large pale green eyes and long black hair playing in the sand, running beside a man who had to be her father because his eyes were colored similarly to the child skipping beside him. The scene faded to one of terror as hundreds of people dressed in long golden robes came to take the child away, pulling her from her parents forcibly. Then there was a ceremony, dozens of men and women surrounded the black-haired imp, and Marissa felt the fear of the child as though it were her own.

  Shaking her head to clear the visions, she stared at Baline. “Why are you showing me this?”

  “Because I want you to know the truth of my words. I have never revealed my memories to another, Marissa. Not once. But I trust you with my secrets, as I hope you will trust me with yours.”

  “I don’t have any secrets.”

  “Yes you do. You didn’t make them, but you’re now the custodian of them.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the secrets of your life.”

  “I don’t want to hear this,” she snarled, giving her back to Baline once more.

  “Then walk away. Ignore it. That’s what you are best at, right?”

  Whirling around, Marissa stomped toward the arrogant woman, fist flexed at her side.

  “You may be the great goddess of Eritrea in the flesh, but you are not the boss of me, bitch.”

  Baline squared her shoulders as though ready for any conflict. “Then stand here and listen. Take time from your platitudes and accept the truth.”

  A moment passed, like a silent heartbeat.

  “Talk.”

  Baline nodded, before walking away to stride beside the murals on the wall, her long golden robes shimmering around her body, trailing against the floor.

  “Tao was very much like you, ambitious, determined. And quite capable of doing what she wanted when she wanted.” Baline laughed, but there was no humor in her tone. “When your mother was born, there were really only two options available to a woman born of a good Eritrean family. She either could marry or take the vows of the order of Yarna. Your mother refused both. She couldn’t t reconcile the desires of her heart and the world she lived in with the fact that she was in love with a man her family would never approve of.” Baline exhale noisily, moving to stand in front of a vivid, lifelike mural. “Are you sure you’re ready for the truth?”

  “Yes,” Marissa replied, at this moment ready and willing for anything.

  Baline nodded again, the slight movement of her head nearly imperceptible.

  “Your mother lived for years in isolation. Society just wasn’t ready to accept a woman who didn’t fit into the confines of what they deemed appropriate. But I don’t think there were any who knew about your mother’s true life.”

  Marissa breathed rapidly, afraid to listen to any more. It didn’t take a degree in advanced biology to know this story did not have a happy ending.

  “Your mother was in love with an exile, a Dissident banished to the caves long ago. I guess they were like Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Two worlds eternally locked in battle, but united by the strange fate of love.” Baline shook her head. “And, like that story, the lives of the lovers ended in violence.”

  Blood drain from Marissa's face as a slight chill settled into her bones. “What happened to them?”

  “Your mother’s father found out.” Baline paused, looking over her shoulder. “I am sure you can guess what happened next.”

  “He killed him. Didn’t he?” Sympathy for her mother, her birth mother, moved through Marissa.

  “Yes, he did. But he was unaware of the firestorm of hate he released. A maelstrom that almost consumed his entire family.”

  Marissa’s feet moved against her will, bringing her closer to the woman. “What-what happened to my mother?”

  Baline sighed loudly, her head turning suddenly. “The Dissidents responded in the worst way imaginable, by murdering everyone in the house while they slept. For many years, I, and everyone else, thought your mother had died in battle. Her body was never recovered, but the destruction, the death … no one thought she’d survived.”

  Marissa narrowed her eyes, staring harshly at Baline. “You’re not telling me something. What else happened?”

  Pale green irises darkened, turning a bright shade of olive. “Your mother lived for many years after. I am not sure how, so don’t ask. But when I touched this mural, I felt her pain. The anger struck out at me. I got a glimpse of her suffering.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Baline sighed sadly. “Your mother helped the Dissidents to murder her family in revenge for her lover being killed.”

  “She helped to what! Are you insane?”

  “It is the truth, Marissa. I would not lie to you about something as grave as this.”

  “But you can’t possibly know all that,” Marissa cried, tears beginning to gather in her eyes. “How do you know all this for sure?”

  “The Am’an,” Baline replied, her voice low. “It connected you to me, and me to you, brought our synergies in line for a brief moment. When I touched this mural, the emotions screamed out to me, blackened my mind. I knew then.”

  “Are you telling me that-that this woman is my mother?” Marissa whiffed, turning her eyes away from Baline to look more closely at the painting.

  “Yes. I’m not sure how it is that her likeness came to rest here. But I think the Fates designed it that way as a message to you.”

  Marissa stared at the mural, not seeing
any resemblance.

  The large, lifelike blue eyes gazing back at her didn’t look familiar. Nothing about the woman looked like the person she stared at every morning in the mirror for the past twenty-six years. God! And after what she just heard, she didn’t think there were any true similarities at all, not in manner or demeanor. She would never help to murder the people she loved. Not for any reason.

  “Strange, isn’t it? The choices that are given to us. We think we decide on what we want, but those decisions were taken from us long ago. You can decide upon the qualities that make up your person, but you can’t decide on what you are and who you are. That part of your life was already pre-laid by the Gods long before you were ever born. I think it took your mother a long time to realize this.”

  Marissa shook her head slowly, wondering when all the thoughts rumbling inside her mind might actually make sense. She could probably spend a lifetime piecing the facts together into a nice, convenient picture. Though, even if she could lace together the interwoven lives, which by some strange twist of fate had led to her creation and nurturing, nothing would bring about complete comprehension.

  “Perhaps you can learn to accept yourself and forget about trying to understand the why and what-for. I assure you, even if by some remote chance you could explain it all, you will never find the answers that you seek. Contentment, true happiness, always lies in moving forward, Marissa, not in continually dredging through the past.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes from the mural. “I’ve seen her before,” she murmured, more to herself than to Baline. “I’ve seen her in one of my dreams. I-I didn’t know who she was then, but this … she looks just like her”

  “I’m not surprised Tao has contacted you. Her spirit is as strong in death as it was in life. It’s why I could still feel her when I touched the image.”

  Marissa covered her eyes, not wanting to see any more. “I don’t understand any of this. Why would she want to contact me? Why would she do any of the things you said?”

  “Why do any of us do the things we do, Marissa? You could spend a lifetime trying to understand, but you will never find the meaning. All you can do is be grateful for the happiness that is given to you. There is no purpose served in trying to understand the misery in life.”