VirtualDesire by Ann Lawrence Page B

back, it was like an iron
brand laid on his skin to sear and scar. “Nilrem’s throat,” he swore, twisting
from her touch. “Have you some evil power that you can burn with your
fingertips?”
    “It’s you. You’re burning up.” She placed a palm on his
cheek. “Are you sick?”
    Incongruously, her hand, which a moment ago had scalded,
felt cool and soothing on his skin.
    “I don’t get it,” she said. “I could have sworn…”
    “What is it you could have sworn? That I was a liar?” How
could a woman be so sweet-faced, so alluring one moment, so infuriating the
next?
    “Look. I just read through my legends, and Sandav is there.
Vad is part of Sandav —backward. What did your family—”
    “My name is Vad. I have no family.” Her touch was light, a
dance on his forearm.
    “I know. Kered said they were dead, years ago. I’m sorry.
When I lost Bob, I thought I’d never get over it. Now where are you really
from?”
    “I am from Tolemac. I crossed the ice fields.” Anger and
amusement warred on her face.
    “Sure. Stick to that story. I almost believed you guys. You
were so sincere—the way you greeted each other, your intensity. But I’m not in
a ball gown, under the influence of too much Tolemac punch. You can drop the
act. It’s stupid and childish.”
    Her words were small hammers smiting his honor. “I am stupid
and childish?”
    “Never mind.” She ruffled her hair with her hands, causing
it to stand up like a cock’s comb. “I didn’t mean it. Wait here.”
    She dashed away in a twirl of her white gown. He heard the
door bang shut.
    As unsteady as he felt, he went into the room to the strange
bed she’d pulled from the padded bench. He’d wasted several long moments under
it, examining the way it worked. Now he just wanted to sink onto its lumpy
surface and sleep this nightmare away.
    The mist no longer swirled through the room. He was dressed
and sheathing his blades when she burst through the door again, her hand
extended before her.
    He froze. The blood in his veins felt as cold as the ice
fields. In her hand was the jeweled dagger. “Where did you find it?” He could
barely say the words. Men were willing to ruin a warrior’s life for this blade.
    “Here. Take it. Isn’t this what you were on a quest to find?
Well, here it is.” She shoved it into his hands.
    “Where did you find it?” he repeated. The blade was smaller
than he remembered. The gold handle was studded with gems of poor quality. He
turned it over and over in his hands.
    “I didn’t find it. My friend Maggie gave it to me, and I’ve
been using it to open letters down in my office.”
    “And why did you not tell me you had it when I told you I
sought it?” I have been betrayed , he thought bleakly, betrayed by my
friend’s woman . Maggie had given the blade to Gwen—given away the key to
his future.
    “To be honest, I thought you were a bit wacky.”
    “What is wacky?” He grasped the knife’s handle and pulled.
Nothing happened.
    “Oh, not wrapped too tight. Mad. And why am I explaining
myself to you? You’re the one who’s playing games.”
    “I do not play games—or not here. You are like so many other
women I have known—unworthy of trust.”
    “I am not. This isn’t about trust.”
    He silenced her with a look. “It is to me.” Finally the
handle shifted, then turned a mere hairsbreadth. “This blade means everything
to me. It holds my future.”
    The handle suddenly turned, slid, pulled from the blade.
Whatever the future might hold, he would know it now. He went to where a lamp
gleamed in her bedchamber.
    He avoided the strange lamp on her table and stood at the
foot of her lush bed to shake the blade handle. A small, rolled piece of paper
dropped onto her blanket.
    He was gratified that his hands did not shake as he unrolled
the paper. His vision blurred. It was not a map of a route through the ice
fields.
    “Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s a map, isn’t it?”
    Gwen stood so close