Topaz Delirium

DEPARTMENT 57:

TOPAZ DELIRIUM

Lynne Connolly

® www.loose-id.com

Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium Lynne Connolly This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright © April 2008 by Lynne Connolly All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-664-4 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: C. B. Calsing Cover Artist: April Martinez

www.loose-id.com

Chapter One Jasper Lebec watched every model stride onto the catwalk and heard the gratifying applause as they emerged. That didn’t guarantee anything, of course; the crowd would have applauded if he’d sent them out in bin liners. They’d applauded just as much for his last couture collection, and that had been a bust. A setback like that had to be expected after the unprecedented success of his house. Not many designers set up their own houses anymore; it was less risky to take a post as head of an established house, but Jasper thrived on risk. Susan Armstrong brushed past him with an intimate smile and a waft of Topaz Delirium, his new perfume. He didn’t return the smile. The woman wanted to get back into his bed, but he’d had enough of her. She took too much for granted, used their affair to encroach on his business, and even used it as an excuse for her constant unpunctuality and increasing unreliability. He’d warned her today that he wouldn’t tolerate her drug taking before a show, but he knew she’d had something because of widely dilated eyes. He slipped into her mind, into the forefront all Talents kept open as a courtesy to other Talents, and found bliss there. Cocaine, her drug of choice, and something else he couldn’t define. Fuck, he’d have to fire her. He could choose to ignore it, but she’d only take that as acceptance and continue taking the drugs. As a vampire, Susan could shake off the effects at sunset, when her vampire powers came upon her, but she was pushing that more and more lately. He was worried about her. Not enough to let her near him again, but enough to monitor her when she wouldn’t notice him. “Where’s the veil?” Madame Morel’s sharply snapped-out command alerted him to the tableau under the lights. His principal model and muse, Topaz, otherwise known as Svetlana Yevchenko, stood completely still, suffering the ministrations of his second in command, Madame Morel. The

2

Lynne Connolly

show was drawing to its grand finale. Time to adorn the bride. He took a moment to study her before he crossed the room. From here, she looked like Cinderella, or a fairy princess. The gown he’d designed swelled around her willowy form like whipped cream, shades of apricot and ivory swirling in preordained drapery, the colors blending with her creamy skin and fiery hair, currently caught up behind her head in loops and artfully arranged ringlets. As he watched, a dresser brought the veil, carrying it more carefully than he would a piece of spun sugar. Svetlana turned her head to look at it, and the beautiful piece glimmered under the lights. Svetlana hadn’t yet appeared on the catwalk, and the crowd was getting restless, wondering if the maestro and Topaz had fallen out, if their notoriously platonic relationship was at an end. His mouth firmed when he remembered the platonic part. That was how it had to be. He’d wanted Svetlana the minute he’d seen her, but he knew with her there would never be any halfways. It would be all the way, and he couldn’t risk that. Wouldn’t, not with her life at stake. For the first time, he understood why his ancestors had avoided the fate until it was forced on them. It wasn’t their own safety they worried about at all; it was the fate of the women they loved. Not fair, but when was life ever fair? Svetlana turned back to face forward, so Madame Morel could ascend the metal stepladder erected behind her and pin the veil in place. Madame’s black-clad form crept up behind Topaz like some giant beetle ready to pounce on its prey. Appearances were deceptive. Svetlana was the strong one, not Madame. Like Jasper, Svetlana was a Talent, a shape-shifting, glorious firebird he’d never been able to properly depict in his shows. That was why she was his muse, not because of the attraction between them that drew him like a magnet. Or so he repeatedly told himself. When she moved, she saw him watching her, so he stepped forward and assumed his usual pose of concentration, one finger touching his lips. Lips that trembled to touch her, kiss her, but as usual, he put the thought away and ruthlessly tamped it down. When he slipped into her mind, he didn’t find the arrogant, ethereal creature she presented in public, but someone exhausted by the frantic activity that was Paris Fashion Week, her body scratched and abused by the creations of the designers. Svetlana was close to collapse. The gown, so beautiful on the outside, was an instrument of torture, the boning scratching her skin, the tight lacing making it difficult for her to breathe, the drapery weighing her down and making it impossible to walk without thinking about the placement of the foot for the next step. Just as well it was a wedding gown because a woman wouldn’t want to wear it for very long. Perhaps he’d sell it to a sadomasochist fetishist. There were some very wealthy ones around. They’d have to be, to buy the dress that was presently torturing Svetlana. And he was about to ask more of her. His heart sank, but he needed her. Not as supermodel, not even as a lover, but in her other capacity as agent for Department 57. She

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

3

deserved to rest, but she was one of his top agents, and he needed her skills. He’d worked to get Hugo Berthier close to her, now he needed her to sweeten the trap and gain entry where he could not. Rapidly, he went through his list of other agents, to see if there was another he could use. There were a few, but not one with her access and her skill, and none Hugo Berthier panted for as much. Jasper decided he would try to make it as fast as possible and insist she rest afterward. He had a farmhouse in the South of France; he could lend that to her. Even considering, that showed how much she’d gotten under his skin. Nobody knew about that farmhouse except for the other Department heads and the woman who looked after it for him when he wasn’t there. Even she didn’t know who he really was. He’d wanted a retreat, a place where he could be totally alone, and that farmhouse gave it to him. That he’d consider sharing it with her came as a revelation to him. An unpleasant shock. Svetlana’s bravery and her startlingly perceptive intelligence attracted him more than her beauty. Everyone was beautiful; it went with the job, but Svetlana sparkled like the central diamond in a well-crafted setting. Which reminded him -- he lifted a finger to summon the burly security guards patiently waiting for his signal. A hush fell over the small crowd as they watched Jasper open the black jewelry case and lift out the item he’d designed. Plus its addition. One of the treasures of France. Worn by Marie Antoinette, the Empress Josephine, and the Empress Eugenie and now by Svetlana Yevchenko -- the Désespoir diamond. Svetlana moved her hand; the large marquise diamond on her ring finger caught the light, and when she lifted her eyes, their gazes locked and held for a bare moment that made the day come alive. He broke the contact by walking around her to fix the collar around her neck. The stones felt heavy in his hands, and he regretted adding to her burden. His fingers lingered for a second at the back of her neck, relishing the touch. Then he stepped back around to study the effect. Stunning. He expected no less, but to see her gowned like this made him realize how wrong he was about his designs. He needed to rethink his path, but at the moment he was too tired to analyze the uneasiness that swam through his head. “It’s missing something.”

It. He heard the word from her mind as if she’d spoken it. Svetlana stared at him, silent as she had been all through this ordeal, straight and proud as any Russian princess. His black jacket rustled in the sudden, brief silence as the music changed, signaling the start of the evening wear section of the show. He took a step forward, then another, pushing her skirts away with his foot, ignoring the gasp from the onlookers who had watched Madame spend fully a quarter hour getting the drape right. But Jasper Lebec could do whatever he wanted here, and he did. He asserted his presence now, certain what he was about to do was right. Seizing her around her waist, he dragged her close. “Look at me.”

4

Lynne Connolly

He gazed at her, losing himself in her amber eyes before he kissed her. Her mouth opened, and he lost himself in her, tasting her as he’d longed to do ever since she’d walked through the door in her prosaic jeans and tee. The warmth of his mouth surged into hers. A hum emerged from the onlookers. Or was it in his mind? He shoved her lips apart with one ruthless thrust of his tongue and took possession, owning her. Svetlana gasped into his mouth but responded, ready with her own passion. Her hands gripped his arms as he slid his arms around her waist. She lifted one hand to touch him, smoothing his hair caught back tightly behind his head. Lost in her, needing her, Jasper forgot why he was here, what he meant to do with her. He wanted to throw her to the floor and drive his cock into her body in a primitive act of possession. His was the kiss of a savage, claiming what already belonged to him. Her awareness of him, her desire for him teased his senses before she snatched it back and locked it away. His senses cried out to the heavens in triumph. She wanted him. Under his closed lids, he sensed the flash of cameras and came back down to earth with a sickening thud. Touching her mind, he felt anger and bewilderment. He pulled away, releasing her with a suddenness that made her gasp, and stepped back in one fluid movement, but he caught his foot in her veil, and the sound of ripping fabric filled the appalled silence. Forcing his emotions back behind the mental barrier he never allowed anyone to breach, Jasper examined Svetlana through narrowed eyes, and finally held out his hand. “Tissue.” Someone placed a pristine white tissue in his hand. Jasper stepped forward once more and applied it briskly to Svetlana’s face, wiping away the worst of the mess he’d made of her lipstick, nothing personal in his touch now. She snared his cool glance with a fiery one of her own, promising retribution. He didn’t respond to her challenge, but stepped back. “Better.” He glanced at Madame, who watched him, expression carefully wiped from her features. “I want forbidden passion. Now she has it.” All that for a look. He’d wrecked her composure, made her a laughing stock for a look ? She must look a mess with her lipstick smudged, probably all over her face, and the magnificent gown a wreck. Next to Svetlana, Susan Armstrong smirked, not hiding her joy at the wreck of the gown. Svetlana knew Susan considered her much as the young pretender in All About Eve had regarded Bette Davis, as an obstacle to overcome, a rival to vanquish. Dog eat dog, or to be more accurate, bitch eat bitch. But when she gazed back into the mirror, she knew Jasper was right. Her eyes flashed with anger and passion mixed in equal measure, her hair mussed, her lipstick too good a brand to be completely gone, but the careful line was now blurred by Jasper’s kiss, the rip to the gown and veil looked exactly as if she’d done something she shouldn’t, something

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

5

forbidden. Someone had taken Cinderella and turned her into Snow White’s stepmother, beautiful but deadly. The jeweled necklace felt like a millstone around her neck; her skin suffocated under the heavy layer of make-up. Every time she moved, her hairpins pricked her scalp, and the bones of the gown scratched her rib cage. The underpinning, as severe as anything in a Dior New Look gown, made it hard for Svetlana to breathe. When she closed her eyes, the vision of a stinking underground cell swam before her. She felt then like she felt now, bound and uncomfortably pinioned, but unlike then, this was her choice. She smelled of Jasper’s new perfume, Topaz Delirium, not sweat and unwashed bodies. From now on, her life would always be her choice, and that cell was a secret between her and one other person. Svetlana was good at keeping secrets. So was the other person. Jasper’s aftershave, a blend of citrus scents, tantalized her nose. She opened her eyes and he snared her in his brooding gaze. Jasper Lebec caused it all. That dichotomy of love and hate, torture and beauty, he judged it and used it for his own benefit. That was why he was hailed as a genius in the cutthroat world of Paris fashion. That was why she wanted him more than any other man and why she detested him, too. The music, sounding tinny here, changed into something else, something sensual. Jasper had this piece written especially for this moment. “Now go and do your job,” he said to her, his voice tightly dispassionate. She went. Judging her cue to a nicety, Svetlana set out into the salon, blazing with light and expectation. Heat beat at her from the bright spotlights and the camera flashes. The music swelled and applause rang out. Svetlana walked down the runway, not adopting her usual toes-first, hip-swaying, aggressive stride because she couldn’t do it, not trussed up like a Christmas turkey. She glided instead, the skirts of the huge wedding gown billowing out around and behind her like a ship in full sail. Symbols and surprises hid in the folds of the gown representing secrets, not all of them good. A realistically sculpted baby in some new feather-light medium lay on one side, and she heard the collective gasp from the audience when the swirling silk parted around it then closed again when she moved on. Keys hung from her waist and even a hotel keycard and a platinum credit card. All the trappings of a well-endowed bride, in fact. Shoulder down, catch the eyes of the most important clients, and then move on. As she reached the center of the runway, she turned into the gown in the way she’d practiced and the skirts and train curled around her feet in a picturesque tumble of fabric. Her attendants took their places just in front of her. When the applause increased, she knew Jasper had appeared with the other models behind him, all applauding the maestro, the creator. In this world, the designer was king,

6

Lynne Connolly

worshipped by a multitude of fans. Even Napoleon failed to achieve the world domination of Jasper Lebec and his kind. And Jasper was in the elite, surrounded by names like Saint Laurent, Dior, and Chanel. All for scraps of fabric and the illusion of beauty. Jasper reached her, smiling and bowing his head regally to the front row which contained the journalists, reporters, and the occasional super-wealthy client who would actually consider buying a couture gown at the astronomical if-you-have-to-ask-the-priceyou-can’t-afford-it cost. He held out his hand, and she caught her breath. “Don’t you want to hit me for what I did to you? I can feel your anger, Svetlana.” Jasper rarely contacted anyone telepathically, keeping his psi senses locked down tight, so the question came as a shock to her system, hitting her wounded psyche square in its vulnerable middle. His taunt was more than she could bear. The bastard used her feelings for him to make a fashion statement. That was all she meant to him, another clotheshorse and her work for the Department. He never saw her, the woman, under the clothes and the kick-ass moves. For sure she wanted to hit him, and if this ended her career, so be it. She didn’t give a flying fuck. She lifted her hand, almost feeling her movement slow down, like a film, the pivotal moment in slow motion. Putting all her strength into her arm, she took a swing at him, all her anger coursing out of her in a great rush. But Jasper was quicker. He whipped his hand up and caught her wrist, using it to bring himself to her. Face to face. For a brief moment, they stared at each other, their gazes stark and open until he slanted his mouth over hers to give her a brief, hard, kiss, passionate but too short for her to pull back or bring her other hand into play. Then she didn’t want to anymore, and the magic happened all over again. Anger faded, replaced by passion. God, how she wanted this man! When he drew away, he smiled, a flash of triumph. His mouth slightly open and moist from their kiss, he turned, very slowly, back to his adoring subjects. Here he was a god, and they expected him to act like one. Jasper’s adorers and acolytes loved the little show, as he must have known they would. Svetlana put up her chin and stared at the wildly applauding crowd down her long nose, forcing her face into freezing immobility, her body in turmoil under the boned gown. Jasper took her hand, using just the tips of her fingers, and led her forward. The bride usually accompanied the designer at the end of a show, but not like this. Too late, she realized Jasper had found a rose from somewhere and thrust it through the buttonhole at the top of his jacket. She had no doubt he’d planned it, because the lining to his black jacket was precisely the same shade of deep red. Nothing Jasper did in his shows was accidental. The rose made him look like a bridegroom.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

7

Knowing how impossible any personal connection was between them, knowing all that, she still wanted him, still wanted his attraction to her to be real. And she hated herself for it. This stunt would catapult Jasper’s show above the others, get him the step-up the relative failure of his last show needed. A new signature perfume, Topaz Delirium, was obviously not enough. Now he had the gossip mags on his side, too. But he needed her to play along, and she had no intention of doing that. The applause rang out, loud and long, mingled with cheers, and Jasper acknowledged them all. He kept hold of her hand and as she was about to walk off the catwalk into the waiting arms of Madame and her assistants, pulled her close one more time. This time, no kiss. Perhaps he realized he’d pushed his luck with the second one, and this time she wouldn’t telegraph her intentions. “Dinner tonight,” he murmured. “I’ll send a car.” At the same time, he sent her a mental message. “Department business.” Damn him, he knew any media-savvy person could lip-read his words which would confirm her status as his woman of the moment. So she turned away from the media and said, with a smile, “You bastard.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded to Madame, standing just out of sight of the crowd. “I’ll see you later.” He turned just in time to catch Susan, who collapsed at his feet.

8

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Two At first, Svetlana thought Susan had staged a trick to gain the limelight. But no. Probing gently into Susan’s mind, Svetlana found the girl’s mind a swirling mass of pain. The little fool probably took too much cocaine again. She felt another presence and didn’t need to enquire who it was. Jasper met her and spoke, in the way Talents did. “This is serious. I detect some kind of poison here.”

“She does cocaine.”

A pause before he responded, a beat for him to study Susan once more.

“I know. It’s more than that. I’ll take care of her. You go. You’re exhausted. I’ll see you

later tonight.” His sudden gentleness disturbed Svetlana even more than his kiss. He shouldn’t have been able to read it. She was used to hiding her emotions away, and around Jasper she always kept her feelings locked up tight. She’d hoped that continued exposure to the cold, unresponsive Jasper Lebec would cure her unreasoning desire for him, but it only increased it. She watched Jasper carry Susan toward the exit. The model, draped limply in his arms, seemed like a rag doll rather than a real woman. Madame Morel watched, too, standing next to Svetlana. “I hope he remembers to take that gown off her before she goes home.” “You’re not concerned about Susan?” Svetlana asked. “She seems really ill.” Madame laughed harshly. “You should be more worried about yourself. If Maitre Jasper wants an affair with you, Susan Armstrong will do her best to end it.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

9

Svetlana gave Madame a Gallic shrug of dismissal. She could at least stop the rest of the world knowing her true feelings. “I’m his designated muse, that’s all. At least for now. I’m only glad he chose a woman with a few curves, instead of one of the refugees.” That was the name the press and other models gave to the super-thin girls. “The refugee look.” She thought it sick. Which was why, of course, they did it. Madame grunted. “I agree with you. I, too, prefer a woman with curves.” Maybe because Madame Morel was, frankly, dumpy, but her severe black dresses kept the ridicule from her door. As if anyone would dare. Madame Morel was second only to Lebec in this fashion house. The security men stepped forward purposefully, and with a shock, Svetlana realized they wanted the necklace back. She wore a queen’s ransom around her neck, and she’d forgotten all about it. “Turn around.” With swift, sure hands, so different to Jasper’s gentle caressing touch, Madame removed the necklace and handed it to the guards, who bestowed it reverently in its custom-made case and took it away. The diamond would return to its owners and its deep bank vault and the setting to Jasper, who’d commissioned it. He’d probably have her pose for photographs with a replica diamond and then have the lovely thing broken up, or sell it to a valued client. Svetlana never wanted to see it again. Jasper had fastened it, and now she was sure that light touch at the back of her neck had been a deliberate caress, designed to raise her senses before he kissed her. He’d taken her for a fool every inch of the way, played on her feelings for him for the sake of a fashion show. Madame’s hands returned to her. After lifting the skirt and undoing the laces tied underneath, which provided specific and precise shaping, Madame began on the long row of hooks and eyes doing up the confection. It fell away, together with all the structural architecture underneath, and Svetlana breathed freely for the first time in over an hour. Underneath she wore a pair of panties and the garter belt with the stockings. Nothing else. “A pity I’m already married, or I’d be buying that gown.” The nasal New York twang alerted her before she turned to see who spoke to her. “I might anyway.” “Madame Berthier! How good to see you!” Lies came so naturally to Svetlana these days that she was hardly aware of them. Both her roles, agent and model, required her to lie exceptionally well. Louise Berthier examined her carefully, making Svetlana aware of every flaw. She stared at the mole just below Svetlana’s left breast and passed her sharp gaze onto the bruise on her upper arm that she’d collected from Jasper’s punishing grip during that insane kiss before she went on to the runway. Svetlana kept her expression of bored unconcern firmly in place.

10

Lynne Connolly

An overthin woman who’d had so many plastic surgeries she could be anywhere between thirty and seventy, Madame Berthier was one of Jasper’s most important private clients, one of the few individuals who still bought couture. “I thought dear Jasper had changed his mind about you when he didn’t put you in the show,” she purred. “Perhaps he has. Perhaps this is your swansong as his muse.” Svetlana shrugged. “He will do what is best for the House of Lebec.” Her answer seemed to please Madame Berthier, who smiled thinly. “He would never take a model seriously anyway. None of you have more than two brain cells to rub together.” Her senses prickled. Did Louise Berthier want more from Jasper than his designs? “You’re doubtless right.” Outside here, in the street, she was photographed and feted. In here, models existed only to serve the clothes and the house. Lower than the dressers, lower than the embroiderers, pattern-cutters, and seamstresses. Models were animated coat hangers. It was an attitude she was more than used to -- she took it for granted. Madame Berthier frowned. “Where is Jasper, anyway? He should be here, surely?” “One of the models fainted, madame. He has taken her away.” She watched as Louise tried to mask her chagrin that a model was more important than she was. “I hope he’s back soon. I want to speak with him.” But word soon came that the master wouldn’t be back. When the news disseminated through the packed changing room, the prevailing response was surprise. His mistresses rarely meant more to him than the occasional fuck. Jasper cared only for his business and Department 57, and very few people knew about the last concern. Svetlana tensed, knowing Susan’s condition had to be serious for Jasper to stay away. Vampires were as vulnerable as any mortal in the daylight. They only came into their strength after sundown, so Susan could be in real danger. Whatever else she was, she was a Talent, and they cared for their own. Svetlana dressed in her street clothes, worrying about a girl she didn’t even like. When Monsieur Berthier joined his wife, it was just too late to see Svetlana topless, but some of the other models had lingered over dressing, aware the customers -- and their wealthy husbands -- would appear before too long. Monsieur was somewhere in his mid-forties, suavely handsome with short dark hair slicked back like a gaucho’s. He dressed in a simple suit and tie, but a suit that screamed “designer” with every movement of his lithe body. Sexy but soulless, Svetlana thought. He greeted his wife with a nod and turned his attention to Svetlana when she smiled at him in greeting. “All Paris will be talking about you by morning. That kiss was a public declaration.” Like his wife, he spoke in English, but his was heavily accented in his native French. His coldness would have frozen stone. Under the smiling surface, in the depths of his gray eyes, lay ice. She answered him with frost. “It’s business. Nothing more.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

11

A thawing glimmer of speculation appeared in the depths. “I thought it might be.” “It makes for good press.” That was how she decided to play it. Jasper’s kiss was planned, a part of the show. She wouldn’t admit to the surging desire underneath. It might all be hers. Now Madame Berthier’s frown deepened. She must have needed a fresh shot of Botox to be able to crease her forehead like that. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not you I want but the clothes.” Madame remained to discuss her order with Madame Morel, but Monsieur Berthier took Svetlana’s elbow and escorted her to the door, reverting to his native language. “Svetlana, I’d greatly appreciate a dinner date with you. I find you charming and well nigh irresistible. Don’t tell me Jasper Lebec has all your favors now.” She swallowed, hiding her distaste. The man was a user, a taker, and for all the lavish gifts he showered on his expensive girlfriends, he never gave anything of himself. Now, it seemed, he had her in his sights. “I can’t come tonight. Call me.” He might help her to work off the dampness marking her inner thighs, the fluttering feeling in her belly. And she knew Hugo Berthier wasn’t faithful to his wife. She wouldn’t be the first. “Lunch tomorrow?” Svetlana detected no uncertainty in his mind that he would achieve his aim. “I would be delighted.” “One o’clock at Antoine’s?” She forced a smile. “Thank you.” There would be no pretence of emotion if she had a brief affair with Hugo Berthier, no lingering regrets when she left his bed, sexually sated but emotionally barren. Much safer than drowning in a pair of silver eyes that promised the world but gave her nothing.

12

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Three Fashion weeks were destroyers of health and well-being, the most exciting weeks of the season and the most exhausting. Svetlana wanted to sleep and eat and sleep some more, not go to dinner with the exciting, infuriating Jasper Lebec. She dressed in a dark blue skirt suit, with a white lawn blouse fastened by a dozen tiny buttons, severe and businesslike, and got in the car Jasper sent. A few camera flashes heralded her entrance to Jasper’s apartment on the rue du Fauberg Saint-Honoré. Very soon, the paparazzi would drift away to the next celebrity event, and she’d be alone again. She couldn’t wait. Jasper waited outside the elevator doors to greet her, still in black pants and jacket, but this time his shirt was white and open at his throat, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of a few curling chest hairs. He took her hand and kissed her cheek, just as he always did when he met her in private. Svetlana let out a long breath. As usual, she couldn’t read anything in his expression, and she didn’t venture to probe his mind. Guardians and Department heads didn’t welcome the touch many Talents used with each other, even into the outer layer of the mind. Jasper gestured for her to precede him. Although Svetlana knew this apartment, the sight still brought the breath rushing into her lungs. After a small lobby, where Jasper took her jacket, she went through to the main living area, a symphony of black and gold, so perfect it seemed otherworldly. The drapes lay open to the sultry July night, the slight breeze stirring the damask, caught into heavy gold-tasseled tiebacks. So perfect, every item carefully placed, she hardly dared moved across the rich Persian carpet. This was the apartment where Jasper met his important clients, an extravagant display of wealth and taste, but a place with no soul.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

13

Standing next to one of the tan suede sofas at the far end of the room was the last man she expected to see here. “Cristos! How lovely to see you!” Unlike her greeting to Madame Berthier earlier in the day, she was sincerely pleased to see him. She kissed him on both cheeks, breathing in his unique, spicy fragrance and drew back to smile into his face. Cristos grinned broadly. Shorter than Jasper -- which wasn’t saying much, since Jasper topped six feet -- stockier and older in appearance, Cristos nevertheless had the same kind of presence that made people look twice. His silver eyes twinkled into hers but then shadowed with concern when he studied her properly. “You look tired.” “I’m always tired at the end of the couture week. Prêt-à-porter seems more frantic, but the couture collection demands more.” Jasper’s deep voice sounded from behind her. “The clothes aren’t meant for wearing, not these days, so they’re hard work. They’re works of art, the highest demonstration of the couturier’s skill.” Cristos gave a short laugh. “I think most of them are downright ugly. And unless you’re six feet tall and a size zero, you can’t get into most of them.” “I’m five ten,” she reminded him. “And I’m not a zero.” “Thank God for that!” Cristos curved his arm around her waist and squeezed. “I prefer a woman with a little more flesh.” “So do I,” Jasper murmured. A warning edged his voice, one he had no right to use, as if he’d claimed her. Until he did, she would ignore it. Cristos gave Jasper a one-sided smile before releasing Svetlana. “But you employ these skeletons, Jasper. They’re doing themselves permanent damage.” “I’m not their keeper,” Jasper said. “Yes, you are, in a way. You and your kind dictate what they should look like.” Jasper’s response could be either violent fury or cold indifference. He was capable of both. But this time, neither was forthcoming. Instead, he moved over to a side table that contained a small collection of decanters. “The cocaine and all the other drugs will kill them quicker, and you know I’ve tried to contain that particular menace.” He required his models to sign an agreement for random drugs tests, and if the test proved positive, the models were in breach of contract and forfeited their earnings as well as their employment. It could have been a humanitarian impulse, but it could equally have been an attempt to reduce unreliability in the models. Svetlana suspected the latter, knowing Jasper’s dispassionate approach to business. “Now I have decided to be the first French designer to demand a body mass index of eighteen or above in any model I employ. It’s time. The fashion world is moving away from such extreme emaciation in any case, and the models faint too much.” Jasper glanced at Svetlana, and his unguarded, hot gaze swept over her. She shivered in response, as though a

14

Lynne Connolly

fine, invisible chain linked them. “Sherry? Port? Or wine?” He remembered her drinks of choice without seeming effort. More than she could after such a heated glance. “If you’ve a good burgundy, I’d appreciate a glass,” she replied, keeping the tremor out of her voice. He shot her a teasing grin, a slight quirk of his lips which anyone not knowing him well could easily miss. “We’ll make a vampire of you yet.” He poured and handed her a glass, before taking Cristos’s whisky tumbler. He poured a generous amount for Cristos and one for himself. “I won’t propose a toast. Despite the success of the show today, this is not a time for celebration.” “Indeed,” Cristos replied gravely. He put his glass aside after one sip. “This is a fleeting visit, Svetlana. I’m on Department business. The events of this afternoon only make it more imperative we handle this situation quickly.” Tension filled the air, sudden and sharp. “What’s wrong? “Susan Armstrong died this afternoon.” Jasper caught her glass as it tilted when her hold loosened on the fine stem. He wrapped a supporting arm around her. “I’m sorry, Jasper.” “So am I.” Jasper helped her to sit on the sofa and took a seat by her side, keeping his arm around her shoulders. “You’ve had a hard week, Svetlana. You need rest, but I need your help. Someone doctored Susan’s drugs.” Jasper’s low, grim tones came like a tolling funeral bell. “Susan used the sunset to get a kick from overdosing, which was more and more frequent lately. She’d take drugs through the day and then deliberately overdose when she came close to sunset. Then when her vampire powers came in, she’d shake off the effects. She told me once that the kick she got from the regeneration was like nothing else. I told her today that if she didn’t stop, I wouldn’t employ her any longer, but she must have misjudged and taken something this afternoon that killed her.” Svetlana took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m all right. You can let me go now.” Had she imagined Jasper’s reluctance to release her? Of course she had, unless he was afraid she might spill red wine all over his beautiful carpet after he handed her glass back to her. The surface of the ruby liquid still trembled slightly. Svetlana had suffered worse than this, and her control was usually much better. “Susan was a disaster waiting to happen, but I never expected it.” “I did. I ended my personal association with her last month, tired of her tantrums and drug taking.” Cristos broke in. “It wasn’t a simple overdose. The Corporation provided the drug that killed her.” Svetlana exchanged a shocked look with Jasper. Cristos’s words sent a death knell through her heart. A loose association of businessmen whose only religion was the great god

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

15

Profit, the Corporation pumped money into capturing and experimenting on Talents. They treated them as if they had no feelings, no souls. “How can you be sure where it came from?” God knew the world they moved in thronged with dealers, happy to provide anything a model might want. “It was laced with Solution X.” Recently the Corporation had developed a drug that prevented the vampire’s powers coming in at sunset every day and added a kick, a speedlike high that disguised the drug’s other purpose and made it saleable on the street. A drug so new it only had the name Solution X. It worked like an opiate on a mortal, and an overdose killed. Svetlana’s heart plummeted. This was the first time she’d heard of Solution X used outside the laboratories. “It’s hit the streets, then.” Cristos sipped from his glass. “It has, but finally we have a lead. Our specialists took samples from Susan before she died, contacted me, and I came over straightaway. Got Dubreis to flash me over.” Flashing, the technique only vampires were capable of, going from place to place in an instant. “The drug is easily dissipated through the system, but this time we analyzed it before it was too late.” Jasper took over. “Solution X is being developed here in France, and now I know where that drug came from.” She waited, but she knew, deep inside, who was involved. “I’ve suspected Monsieur Berthier of involvement with the Corporation for some time, so I put the perfume business his way and let him develop it. I favored his wife, allowed her to become intimate with me.” A little jolt warned Svetlana to put up her barriers. Did he mean he’d slept with the sharp-boned Louise Berthier? Jasper’s affairs were as cool and businesslike as his business dealings, so the news of a new liaison shouldn’t have hurt her as much as it did. Pain lanced through her when the unbidden vision of Jasper making love to Louise Berthier shot into her mind. “Maybe Berthier knows nothing, and someone in his employ is responsible. We need that person alive and to close down the facility making the drug.” Jasper sounded as cold as always but a single note in his voice alerted Svetlana to his concern. Cristos sighed and sank his head into his hands. “I have to tell Susan’s parents. They’re on my side of the Atlantic.” He looked up and his eyes held despair. “She was their only child. She was really twenty, not a vampire on her third life, pretending to be twenty for the third time. Her first life and her last. Fuck.” His mouth firmed; his eyes sparked pure fire. “I want these bastards caught. Talents, Sorcerers apart, don’t reproduce easily. Every child is precious, and these people kill without compunction, as though we’re disposable, as though we’re nothing.” “We are nothing to them,” Svetlana murmured. “I know how that feels.” Jasper turned to her, lifted his hand, and then dropped it back to his side without touching her. His gesture was impossible to interpret, but it felt to Svetlana like tenderness. Cristos lifted his head and met her eyes. “We need someone to go in fast and hard, find out what exactly is going on. Then we’ll take the facility down. Berthier has four big

16

Lynne Connolly

factories in France and maybe a few smaller ones. We would prefer to target the right one first time, or we’ll alert him to the fact that we’re on to him.” “We need to know now,” Jasper put in, “and the best way --” “Is to go to the source,” Svetlana said grimly. She lifted her glass and found to her surprise that it was empty. Jasper reached over and took it from her, getting to his feet to fetch her refill. So he wasn’t next to her when she drew the conclusion she knew had to be right. “You want me to seduce Berthier. A honey trap.” In the days of the Cold War, honey traps were sexual snares, women and sometimes men, sent in to seduce key staff and gain information. When the Cold War ended, honey traps did not. Svetlana knew all about that. She’d worked for the USSR in that capacity herself, for a while. A short while. A large Burgundy glass, half-full, appeared before her. She took it and drank deeply. “I’ve changed my mind,” Jasper snapped. “I don’t want Svetlana involved.” That was startling enough for her to stare at him in shock. “But you set me up for it, didn’t you? You made sure Berthier had a backstage pass today, that he knew I’d be there. The news of my appearance was supposed to be a surprise; I wasn’t in the show at all except for the last entrance.” “You’re my muse. It would be strange if you were not present. And it would always be your choice. I’d planned to have Susan as backup, but her drug-taking made that less likely, especially when I saw her today.” “But you wanted to be there too, when Berthier approached me,” Svetlana persisted. Something important lurked in the depths here, something apart from this case. “If Susan hadn’t collapsed, you’d have been there.” To look after me. The words remained unspoken, hovering in the air. Svetlana was one of the Department’s most experienced agents, well able to look after herself. She’d worked for them through two “lifetimes” now, the Topaz one being relatively new. But the agent work wasn’t. She didn’t need babysitting. Jasper wanted to be there, to protect her. Warmth, mingled with shock, flowed through her at the thought. He did care, after all. But how much? A man could sleep on this large couch in comfort, but they sat, one at each end, separated by what seemed like acres of soft tan suede. The knock at the door broke the awkward silence. Jasper rose and glanced at Cristos. “That will be dinner. You’re staying?” “Thank you but no. I want to tell Susan’s parents before they hear another way, and my appetite won’t return until I’ve done it.” Cristos got almost soundlessly to his feet. “I’ll leave you to discuss the operation. I have a backup, should you decide not to take the job, Svetlana. It will undoubtedly involve some personal contact.” An interesting metaphor for sex and not

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

17

one she liked. Svetlana preferred to have everything in the open, not hedge around it with pretty language. “I’ll consider it.” Was that sorrow she saw in Cristos’s face? She didn’t try to contact him mentally, out of respect for his privacy. Yes, Cristos would regret the necessity of a move like this. If she wanted out, no one would force her or hold her decision against her. Jasper stood to shake Cristos’s hand. “Tell her parents I’ll talk to them if they wish it. Any time. Tell them Susan was an excellent model and shaping up well. Don’t tell them about the cocaine. There’s no reason they should know about that now.” Cristos shook Jasper’s hand before nodding to Svetlana. Jasper saw him to the door and let in the catering people at the same time. Within ten minutes, they’d set up and were gone. “Dinner?” Jasper held out a hand. Svetlana recognized his imperious gesture. Jasper was in the process of closing himself off. He, like the other Department heads, kept apart from other Talents. Nobody knew for sure what kind of Talents they were, but Cristos had been married once; his stepson still worked for the Department. Jasper had nobody, no known long-lasting affections. Susan’s death ate at Svetlana’s heart like a canker. She wanted to uncover the people responsible for murdering yet another Talent, and she wanted to find someone, anyone, who could help to heal the ache Jasper left in her heart. She found Hugo Berthier sexy, but there was no chance he would pierce the barrier she set up between her and the rest of the world. “I’ll take the assignment,” she said.

18

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Four “You were attracted to Berthier once?” Jasper lifted a glass of claret to his lips. She watched him drink, fascinated by his sinfully curved lips. Svetlana shrugged and took a mouthful of pommes dauphinoise, chewing slowly while she considered her response. She swallowed. “He’s good-looking, a man of taste and intelligence. His wife is a demanding bitch. They deserve each other. Berthier takes and discards women like paper tissues. I don’t doubt I’d have served the same purpose.” The kind of man she could handle, unlike the one sitting opposite her. Jasper nodded and gazed down at his plate. “Is there something wrong with the food? It came from my usual service, which is generally reliable, but it seems to taste of very little tonight.” Svetlana forced herself to lift a morsel to her mouth and concentrate on tasting. This was the first real meal she’d had all week, so she should really have more appetite. “It’s fine. Better than fine.” He considered his plate, his head tilted to one side, his invariable habit when thinking about something. “Perhaps I’m not in the mood for it.” He shoved his plate aside and reached for his glass. “It gives me pleasure to see you eat, though. So many models never eat at all.” He toasted her, lifting his glass. His lips quirked in a smile though the look in his eyes remained distant. “I’ll design for real women. With curves.” “Isn’t that more difficult?” He shrugged and tilted his chin up in an arrogant gesture. “I am Jasper Lebec. I can do it. It’s true that breasts disturb a drape or break up a sweep of pattern, but I’ll make breasts fashionable if I can.” She forced another mouthful down. “So why do you think many women have breast augmentations?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

19

“A different market. Less refined.” His gaze sharpened. “You haven’t had such an abomination, have you?” She laughed. “No. You’d have noticed, in any case.” He put his empty glass down on the fine linen tablecloth. “So I would. I see you naked several times every season. But it’s just business. In the atelier, you’re another shape to challenge me, that’s all.” He opened his mouth but closed it again without saying anything. Abruptly he got up from the table and tossed his crumpled napkin down by his plate. “Would you like some dessert? It’s something with raspberries, I believe.” Svetlana recognized the gesture; Jasper was getting too close to revealing his true feelings, so he changed the subject and broke eye contact. Her naked body disturbed him, did it? Was it that, or the thought of her stripping for Hugo Berthier? Tough shit. He was sending her there, after all, so he’d have to suck it up. “I don’t want any dessert. You’ll have to take my word for it, Jasper. I don’t starve myself; I’m just not hungry tonight.” She couldn’t take any more. She had to leave. She wanted Jasper so much; her pussy was wet and ready for him already, dampening her panties under the severe blue skirt. Her thoughts were too disturbing, too close to the surface, and Jasper’s powerful Talent would discern them before too long if she didn’t leave now. “Too late,” he murmured, so quietly she had to strain to hear him. He turned around to face her. The expression in his silver eyes was nothing like she was used to. Hot, passionate, and desirous. Needy. He spoke to her, in words throbbing with sincerity. “I want you so much, it burns me every time I look at you.” He paused, and she stared back, stunned. “What, you can’t take the truth? Shall I send for your car?” She shook her head. “Why, Jasper?” “Why what? Why do I want you? God knows.” “Jasper?” If they wanted each other, if he’d wanted her all this time she’d wanted him, why hadn’t he said anything? Was he afraid of commitment, perhaps? She had no idea. She couldn’t read him unless he let her in, and his face remained impassive apart from the fire in his eyes. He lifted his hand, only to drop it again, the movement jerky, so unlike his usual elegant, considered gestures. “Every time I look at you, I want you with a despair that eats at my soul.” “Why haven’t you come to me before?” She wasn’t hearing this; she couldn’t be. He shook his head. “Too many reasons. But, Svetlana, we can have tonight.” Temporarily bereft of words, she stared at him.

20

Lynne Connolly

“Tomorrow you begin an assignment I’m still not sure I should give to you. Times are desperate, but I won’t send any of my agents into a situation they can’t handle. You won’t let me read you; you’ve kept your barriers hard up against me, and I won’t force it.” “You could,” she said, like him, in English. “Yes. But I won’t. So tell me and be honest. Do you want this assignment? Should I send someone else?” She met his gaze frankly, needing to match honesty with honesty. “Read me, Jasper. Learn the truth.” He shook his head, watching her, his eyes wary. “Then I’ll tell you. No, I don’t want it, but yes, I can do it. And Berthier has the hots for me. You made sure of that by throwing me in his way every opportunity you had. I’m the best person for the job.” “You’re right.” He swallowed, his throat pale against the mandarin collar of his black jacket. “But I don’t want you to do it. Nothing about this assignment feels good. But if you take it, we can have this.” “So you’re giving me one night of bliss before snatching it away?” Anger, never far distant when she dealt with Jasper, swelled within her. “It has to be. Understand that, Svetlana. If we take tonight, we can’t have anything else.” He stayed where he was but turned his hand, palm up and held it out to her. “Neither of us can think straight for this desire we have for each other. It’s a physical thing, no more. Maybe it’s an inconvenience we can rid ourselves of tonight. Can you do that?” Could she? Take this and work out her obsession with Jasper Lebec in one night? She had to try, or she’d go mad. Svetlana took the step that separated them and put her hand in his. His warmth surprised her. He usually felt so cold when he touched her, but now his heat enveloped her. Now it was his turn. He moved with a fluidity that shocked her, releasing her hand only to wrap his arms about her and take her lips in a welcome kiss. Earlier in the day, Jasper’s kiss had been punishingly savage, but this time he parted her lips with his tongue to stroke and seduce, taking her more thoroughly with that one kiss than anyone had ever done before with his whole body. His tongue caressed hers and moved on to stroke the roof of her mouth, exploring her. Holding him like this, feeling the man under all the fine fabric and expensive tailoring made her want to rip and tear. At the thought, claws formed at the end of her fingertips, but she willed them away again, horrified. Shape-shifters sometimes involuntarily changed form when making love with someone they truly wanted and loved. She and Jasper only had tonight, so this encounter couldn’t be that. Mustn’t be that. He tore his mouth away. His eyes challenged her, the silver gaze fierce in its intensity. “I’m told this collection is a triumph.” His one-sided smile was decidedly wry. “And I don’t care. All I could think about was you. My cock inside your body, my body next to yours,

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

21

touching you from our lips to our toes and everywhere in between. Svetlana, what are you doing to me?” Only what he was doing to her. He slid his hand around to the back of her head, threading his fingers through her hair. Cradled in his hand she felt small, vulnerable, and cared for. Not feelings Svetlana was used to. Not feelings she wanted. She’d worked so hard to make herself strong, kept rigid control over her emotions for so many years. “Tonight is a night out of time, Svetlana. What we say, what we do, is ours alone, and neither of us will take it any further, or tell anyone else.” Despair and desire had her gripped in equal measure. “Is this the only way? Is there no more?” Despite her fear of involvement, she wanted him. If he gave their relationship a chance, then she would, too. “Yes, it’s the only way. Once, Svetlana. I can’t give you any more.” “Then I agree.” The idea of walking away from him now was unthinkable, and perhaps he was right. Perhaps this was a mere physical obsession they could work out in one night. Deep inside, she knew that was wrong. She would never forget him, but at the very least, this would give her some ease. He kissed her again with a fierce possession that took her breath, and this time, she responded in full measure, sliding her hands under his jacket against the heated silk of his shirt. The world shrank to this apartment, then this room, then just the two of them. Nothing mattered except this man and this night. He drew away just enough to speak to her. “I have a beautiful bedroom, where I rarely sleep, and one where I spend most of my nights. Would you like one, or both, or don’t you care?” “Give me the real one.” “They’re both real. Both part of what makes me what I am.” He gazed at her, his heated stare roaming over her face. Because he kept his mind firmly locked off from the outside world, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking but she’d never seen him look so open and never so -- so human. A touch of vulnerability crept through the arrogant, demanding exterior, making her wonder what lay underneath. “Come.” He took her hand and led her out of the room. The hallway outside was as carefully planned and as beautifully appointed as the rest of the apartment. Too much so. The perfection made Svetlana want to rip and tear from sheer perversity. Jasper led her toward two small doors at the end. “One of these is a closet, and the other is my room. The help thinks it’s another closet because of the thrall I cast on it. I don’t have to tell you which one, do I?”

22

Lynne Connolly

She touched the knob of the door that tingled, as though bright with static electricity, and she recognized the persuasion pushing her away. Jasper gave her a wry, one-sided smile. “Congratulations.” He reached inside and flicked on a switch, lighting the room and using the dimmer slide underneath to mute it. “I work in here, so the light is usually very bright.” She stepped inside. When he followed her and clicked the door closed behind them, she could have been in a different apartment. This large room must be where Jasper Lebec actually lived. The calmer, less ornate furnishings in pale shades framed rather than enhanced, relaxed rather than stimulated. The large bed was covered with a cream crocheted throw, the drawing board in the corner strictly functional. Under the window sat a desk, well designed but without making any kind of statement, and a wheeled chair Jasper must use to scoot between that and the drawing board. And yet this room spoke of its owner. A bookcase was filled with well-thumbed volumes, not shelved by appearance but by usefulness. Because of the understated elegance and the natural air of confidence she sensed here, Svetlana thought it reflected more of Jasper than the exquisite apartment beyond. His deep voice came from behind her. “Sometimes I feel like a ring missing the central jewel out there.” “I thought you were the jewel.” “And I think it’s you.” He swung her around, back into his arms, and she lifted her head for his kiss. But he stopped before his lips met hers and gazed at her instead. “What is it about you, Svetlana? Why you? I’m around beautiful women all day, even some Talents, but none of them reach to my heart like you do.” His heart? Svetlana faltered. “Then let me in, Jasper.” “I’ll try.” No one had ever gotten this far with the enigmatic leader of the Department in Paris, but Svetlana wasn’t thinking about him like that any more. This was Jasper, the man she’d wanted since she first saw him, the man to whom something inside her called. Not love. It took knowledge and trust to build love, but they had something. And it appeared that now Jasper wouldn’t deny it any more than she could. He slammed her against the closed door and took her mouth in a punishing kiss, passion blazing through his supple body, heating her to boiling point in an instant. Instead of shrinking from his fire Svetlana responded, pushing one hand up into his hair, loosening and discarding the tie that held it neatly back from his head. From the moment she’d first met Jasper she’d wanted to feel his silky black hair ripple through his fingers. It felt every bit as good as she’d imagined, cool and soft. Now she wanted to feel the strands caress her naked body. Their mouths met, clashed, dueled in a frenzy of need and want. Years of repressed desire exploded in a single instant and the conflagration took them both.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

23

She couldn’t remember walking to the bed or Jasper lifting her. They just arrived, and when they did, he tumbled her back onto the soft cover, curving her into his arms as he sank down beside her. For this one night, she belonged to him, and he to her. When he kissed her again, she felt a nudge in her mind. She knew Jasper entered, she’d felt his presence before, but not like this. Before, he’d entered her mind prosaically, at the outer level, but now he demanded entrance, piercing through to the center of her thoughts, infusing her with his presence. She opened her mind to him, leaving no barriers between them. He could read whatever he wanted, go where he pleased. She would have no secrets from him tonight. Lifting his lips from hers, lingering for a last, soft touch, he murmured, “I’m open to you, too. Svetlana. Tonight I’m yours.” His voice, low and vibrant with passion was nothing like she’d heard before. She touched his mind and slid within, to the places she knew and then further, deeper. As he gazed at her, she saw him, felt him, and he was everything she’d suspected him to be. And more. A strong man with a powerful desire to protect and defend and a capacity for deep passion that he never shared before. Until now. He bent to her again, spreading small kisses over her cheekbones and eyebrows, working back down to her mouth, leaving tiny damp spots that slowly dried on her skin. His tongue flicked out to taste her, absorbing her essence. He didn’t stay there but dropped kisses on her chin and her neck. He undid the first button on her blouse then slipped his hand around to the side, unerringly finding the hidden zipper. He arched a brow in mock-arrogance. “You prefer prêt-à-porter to couture?” Couture rarely had zippers in the clothes. Couture was the last thing on her mind at the moment, but she forced herself to answer his question. “Sometimes. It’s easier to wear.” “And easier to remove,” he growled. He slid a hand around her waist and lifted her, using his other hand to tug the blouse over her head. Underneath, she wore a plain cotton bra, which for some reason made him give a sharp bark of amusement. “The line is better under the blouse than a fancy lace one,” she protested. “I designed this to be worn without a bra. Were you thinking of armor plating?” Before she could suppress it, the real reason danced in her mind, and he stilled, his hand resting motionless on her body as he read her. “This is your protest against going to Berthier. Tomorrow, when you have lunch with him, you’ll wear lace and sexy underwear in case he wants you there and then.” He lifted up on his elbows, his face still and unreadable. She raised a brow. “Second thoughts? If I can take it, you can too.” He sighed and lifted his hand to take hers, twining their fingers together as if he couldn’t stop touching her. “You drive me mad, Svetlana. I’m praying that we can work this

24

Lynne Connolly

out tonight and sate ourselves on each other. I’m trying to be honest. I’m just out of practice.” “Not about things that matter.” She reached for him and slipped a finger inside the front opening of his shirt. “You’re always honest with your Department agents.” He shuddered under her touch and because she was deep into his mind she read his regret. “Some of them haunt me. The ones I lost.” Now she knew how hard it was for him to admit that to her. It took courage to open himself that much. She would honor it. Nobody would ever know that from her. “They shouldn’t haunt you. If they weren’t full-time agents they made the decision to accept an assignment; you merely offered it. If they were full-time agents, they knew what they would be expected to do when they entered the service. We’re all adults, capable of making up our own minds. For tonight, Jasper, forget them. We’ll ease each other’s pain; we both need this.” “Yes.” He came back to her, but she pushed him away and tugged at his shirt. “I’ve never seen you topless. Is there a reason for that?” “No.” “Then let me see you now. I’ve undressed for you in the past. Now do it for me.” Watching her through narrowed eyes glittering with passion, he slid off the bed and stripped. Svetlana lay back, not attempting to undress, watching him reveal his body to her for the first time. He removed his jacket, sliding the silk-lined sleeves down his arms and letting the garment drop to the floor in a crumpled heap. His undid his shirt buttons one by one before pulling the garment off his body in one strong movement. His muscular chest, covered in soft, curling hair, proclaimed his masculinity, with a delicious trail traveling down past his navel into his pants. He unbuttoned the fly almost leisurely, using one hand to flick the buttons aside, never taking his eyes off her. She watched him slide his pants down his legs, followed by his dark green silk boxers, peeling his socks off as he went and pushing his shoes off his feet until he stood completely naked. Even used to nudity as she was, Svetlana found Jasper a breathtaking sight. Not just his cock, which reared before her, its tip red and glistening with drops of precome, but the sheer masculinity of his body, his muscles rippling when he moved. She licked lips suddenly gone dry. Jasper was her ideal of a man. She wanted him so much, it hurt her deep inside. “You don’t shave or wax.” He grimaced. “No, I don’t. I’m not ashamed of being a man.” “No, you aren’t, are you?” Growling, he came back to the bed and gave her a swift kiss, licking into her mouth before busying himself with her skirt. Since he’d designed her outfit, he knew exactly where

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

25

to unfasten it and slid the skirt off her faster than she’d put it on, returning to kiss and lick around her navel. A tiny nip raised her level of sensitivity to higher planes. He kissed a trail up to her breasts, and he slipped one hand behind her to unclip her plain white bra. The fever took her, and she wanted his touch, felt the heat of his body as it brushed against hers and finally got her wish when his hair slid forward to touch her in teasing wisps of sensation. Jasper dragged the garment down her arms and off. He’d seen her breasts before of course but never in a situation like this. His eyes had never devoured the small mounds with the soft pink nipples as if he wanted to eat them whole; his mouth had never touched them before and furled them to tight points. He feathered them with light kisses, flicking his tongue out to taste before drawing a nipple deep into his mouth to suckle. Svetlana arched her back, offering herself to him. Nothing had ever felt so good before. Shivers chased each other through her body; her sensitivity increased to unbearable heights. He sucked her in, took his time, tasted every crease of her tightly furled nipples. She moaned when the sensitive tip hit the roof of his mouth, wondering if it really was possible to come from his mouth on her breasts. Liquid heat oozed between her legs in response. When he lifted away, they were both breathing harder, their gasps the only sounds in the hushed room. His hands went to her panties that, like her bra, were plain white. He pulled them down her legs, taking her sheer, hold-up stockings with them, his urgency palpable in his sudden, jerky moves. “You don’t like the stockings?” “I want us wide open to each other.” His voice held a huskiness she’d never heard there before today. “That means total nudity.” He returned to unfasten her necklace, a simple gold chain. “Not even this.” He slipped her watch off her wrist, leaning over her to put both pieces of jewelry on the nightstand. She took the opportunity to taste his chest, touch the fine hair with her tongue and lick. When he shivered, she laughed with delight at the knowledge that she could reciprocate. Their eyes caught and held. “Svetlana,” he whispered, the gentle sound going right into her soul. Then louder, “Svetlana!” He kissed her, opening his mouth against hers, crushing her close for a full-bodied kiss of carnal wanting. Open mouthed, they explored each other, tongues meeting, searching for the sensitive spots, the roof of the mouth, just inside the lips. He cupped a breast in his hand and pinched her nipple; the tiny, shooting pain peaking her need for him. Past thinking, her body a screaming column of want, Svetlana followed when he sat up, lifting on to his knees and crossing his legs. Cool air washed over her body, and she missed his touch. His cock jutted up, hard and needy, and he held his arms out to her. “Come here , Svetlana. Now.”

26

Lynne Connolly

Scrambling up, she slid over him, rising up on to her knees and straddling him before lowering her pussy onto his rigid erection. The broad head, slick with pre-come, parted her smooth flesh, sliding between the sensitive, feminine folds before pushing against her opening. She sighed her pleasure. She watched him, gazing down into his eyes, as he steadied her, holding her waist but letting her control this, their first time. Tension entered his gaze, and she knew the cost of his restraint. She couldn’t expect it to last long. Wildness lingered behind the control, a wildness Svetlana had never known in Jasper before now. He was big. Svetlana preferred not to think of his size and how he might not fit, and then she could think of nothing else, as his full length slid inexorably inside her, and she sank down to join with him and link in the most intimate way two bodies could join. He penetrated her deeply, nudging her womb with his cockhead, and she nearly lost her mind when he touched her sweet spot. His name escaped her lips in an almost soundless sigh, but he heard it, intimately linked as they were, body and mind. “Svetlana!” She opened her eyes to see his, locked on to her face, blazing with need. The sight took her breath away -- Jasper, open and all hers. He brought her down to him for a kiss such as she’d never known before. Intimate, deeply searching, all consuming, his mind took possession of hers, giving her all his formidable attention, all his greed for her. “Yes,” he murmured, breath hot on her lips. “All of it. Take what you want, Svetlana because I intend to take you hard and deep -- all night.” “I daren’t move.” “Why not?” His seductive, velvety voice melted her more, but still she had a problem. “You fill me up, Jasper.” His sharp laugh undid her and she felt hot liquid seep between them. “Move, ma

chérie,” he said, and kissed her deeply, drawing back to watch her. Pressing her knees into the mattress, she lifted, sliding up to the music of his soft groan. Daring to lift further, she felt him slip free, creating delicious friction at her entrance. Then she pushed slowly down to take him back inside. The exquisite sensation made her want more. She felt him all the way in, his flesh pressing hers as intimately as possible. Jasper caught his breath at the back of his throat, letting it out again in a slow, luxurious sigh. “Keep moving.” He placed his hands on either side of her slim waist and watched where they joined. She saw her blazing red pubic hair, or what was left of it after her recent Brazilian, blend with his more abundant dark bush. Underneath, the glimpse of his shaft disappearing into her wet body made her even wetter, a gush of fluid heat.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

27

“Is this -- usual for you?” she ventured. “None of this is usual.” She slid up with aching slowness and back down again. A growl reverberated deep in his throat. “You’re so beautiful, Svetlana, so lovely. And it’s all natural. All of it right. You shame me.” “I couldn’t do that.” She slid down again, arching back to take all of him inside her, her increasing wetness easing his way. Every stroke became easier, driving her a little more toward fulfillment. “Yes, you do. This is what I should be celebrating in my work, the pure beauty of a real woman.” He cupped her breasts, and then slid his palms back down again. “Your skin is so soft, so silky. It’s a joy to touch.” She gazed down at him. “Not every woman is built like me.” Her breasts were small, her hips slim, but from nature, not design. No starvation diets, no punishing exercise regimes. Just the way she was made. He stroked her buttocks and cupped them. “You have lovely individual curves that should be celebrated and not suppressed.” “You’re an artist, Jasper.” Desperately she tried to think of something else to stop her orgasm, which rose fast inside her. She wanted this to last, wanted this delicious escalation to slow down so she could remember and savor every moment in the dark nights to come. Her nerve endings tingled and sparked, centering on the place where his body met and entered hers. With a roar of what sounded like pain, Jasper surrendered to his need. He flung his hands behind him for support and pushed up into her, hard. Her cry spoke of completion and of a beginning, of a sharp spike of orgasm that put her senses on edge. More aware of him, of this, than ever before, she heard his growl. “I can’t hold back any more. I want you too much.” He lifted his arms and gripped her waist before he pushed her, following, never leaving her body, aggressively shoving her until her back met the mattress. Her aching response drenched her body with want. She ended on her back, her knees lifted high. He pulled them higher under his arms and thrust into her. She cried out, calling his name like a mantra. “Jasper, Jasper, Jasper!” Sure, powerful strokes forced his body deep into hers, his balls slapping her ass with each potent drive, every stroke pushing her to heights she hadn’t known before. His black hair swung forward in a tangled, gleaming mass, shorter strands sticking to his forehead and cheeks. All the time, he watched her and kept his mind deep in hers, opening for her to read. Svetlana had never entered a mind as sparkling as Jasper’s, as alive. As powerful. He could destroy her with a thought, but instead he bathed her in sensation, gave her heat and passion.

28

Lynne Connolly

All that she saw she embraced and gave back to him. Her fierce need for him drove her to hold her body rigid against the mattress, pushing back up, opening herself to receive his aggressive, powerful possession. Jasper’s big body quivered with his effort to hold back his orgasm and push her even higher. She flew. For the first time without shape-shifting, Svetlana flew. If she cried out, she didn’t know it. If she called for him, she wasn’t aware of it. All she knew was Jasper, his body in hers, and the rhythmic movements she could only respond to, holding herself rigid to absorb him. “That’s right, take me, use me. Fuck me.” She opened her eyes to watch him watching her and came apart. Sobs racked her, her whole body rippling with a succession of tiny thrills. And as she watched, he joined her, his eyes becoming unfocussed, his mouth opening to cry out hoarsely as he pulsed inside her in throb after throb, his seed pouring into her receptive body. At last, Jasper closed his eyes and sagged forward. Svetlana gasped but made no effort to push him away, panting, loving the sensation of Jasper, heavy, sweaty and spent, resting on her. Eventually he swung to one side, taking her with him, still embedded in her as if he couldn’t bear to pull away. She draped her leg over his and snuggled close, despite the sweat that slicked both of them.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

29

Chapter Five “Who would have thought the great Jasper Lebec would ever sweat without an assistant standing by with a pure white towel?” Jasper chuckled, the sound still shaky, his mouth slightly open in his effort to get his breath back. “Don’t confuse the executive with the man. It’s good for business to be fastidious.” “So you’re a slob in real life?” “I wouldn’t go that far.” He brought her mouth closer for a kiss, the gentle brush of his lips sparking new needs in her. “I’ve never enjoyed squalor.” “How old are you?” She closed her eyes, appalled at herself for asking such a thing. Jasper’s secretiveness beat even the other Department heads. Normally the question was part of one Talent getting to know another. They took amusement at age differences and exchanged experiences, but with Jasper Lebec, nobody asked such personal details. He kissed her again, his lips hot against hers. “I told you. I’ll answer anything I can for you tonight. I hold other people’s secrets, things it wouldn’t be right for me to tell you, but I’ll tell you what I can. I was born in 1731.” She gasped. “So young!” She’d always imagined Jasper to be older and wiser than anyone else she knew, but she knew others who were his senior in age. His iron control demonstrated hard-won discipline that must have taken him years to perfect. Now she knew what a vibrant human being lurked beneath his everyday austerity. He laughed. “So flattering!” “No, I meant you seem so sure of yourself, so confident.” It was his turn to close his eyes, and his smile faded. When he looked at her again, his gaze held sadness and a tinge of regret. “Neither, I’m afraid. I accepted what I was and took the role life had for me, but I haven’t always been sure. Never idealize me, or any of the

30

Lynne Connolly

other Department heads. We just do our best, that’s all. Idealization leads to fanaticism, and that’s something none of us want.” “I know.” She reached a hand out to him. He took it in his and guided her to slide it around his waist and hold him. He kissed the tip of her nose and in his mind, she felt his desire rising again. Between their bodies, his cock moved and hardened, still wet from her body. He stroked her back in smooth sweeps of his hand, his other hand under her head, holding her close. Svetlana rarely felt safe anywhere, but here she enjoyed the luxury of security. Strong in her own right, wealthy in her own right, followed obsessively by paparazzi and media, it was only now, lying here in Jasper’s arms, she wondered why she’d taken such a public course with her life. Jasper read her fleeting thought and articulated it. “So why did you decide to go into the fashion business? You don’t need it. Why enter this world of bitches and beauty?” Nobody had ever asked her that before. She knew, deep inside. The knowledge brought contentment with the aftermath of Jasper’s hard fucking still heating her thoughts. Her passion flared into anger, helpless fury she thought she’d lost years ago. “I want to prove to the world that I matter, to make them look. Once they ignored me and my pleas for help. They don’t ignore me anymore, and I don’t need their help.” The memories opened black pits in her soul, agonizing memories she’d done her best to exorcise but never quite succeeded. “Tell me. I know the facts from Cristos, but not what your experiences did to you.” He paused and stroked her cheek, his shaking fingers the only indication of his passion. Even now, his control astonished her. He wanted her, she felt it, but he was taking time out to make her feel wanted, not just in body, but in mind. “I know he held things back. I want to know it all.” Even here, in Jasper’s arms, the memory chilled her, made her remember the bonenumbing cold and the terror of not being in control. Long ago, she’d worked out what she needed and how she could get it. It didn’t hurt much to tell him now. “I want people to look at me, to notice me, to register that I exist. Only that way do I feel real. My parents were loyal Cossacks, part of the military for years. They were used and abused by the czars and their servants. My father died before my eyes when I was small, killed by an extremist who discovered we were Talents and thought us abominations. My mother and I moved to a different part of Russia, and we struggled on for a few more years, but the heart went out of her with my father’s murder. After her death, I spent years working out my hatred for the people who did it. I joined the Revolution in 1917, sure nothing could be worse than the czars. Nobody was more fervent than me in his detestation of the old régime. I was a good citizen, working for what I thought was my country’s good.” She glanced up at his face, but he watched her, his eyes sharply intelligent. Fire, banked down, lurked there, ready to flare

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

31

up again. His cock throbbed between them. Her concentration wavered and the memories which burned acid in her mind for so long, lost their potency under his fiery need for her. “I watched our brave new world go wrong. We were so optimistic, so idealistic, so -- fanatical.” He kissed her forehead. “Go on.” She felt the bitter memories pour out of her as she told him. He knew what articulating the experiences was doing to her, she felt his understanding, his desire to help her lance the poisonous wounds. “Then the new regime persecuted Talents, too. What goes around, comes around, I guess. When the Soviets discovered Talents existed, they set up laboratories to study us. We entered them voluntarily because we were idiots.” She almost spat the word. “They studied us for years, trying to…extract…what they wanted.” She shuddered but continued, feeling the pain leach out of her as she spoke. “We stopped cooperating, and despite what they did to us, we didn’t break. As their experiments reached repeated failures, the treatment got worse, and although we began as volunteers, we ended as prisoners.” “Did they torture you?” His neutral tone didn’t fool her. His anger simmered inside, helped to bring balm to her soul. This time his voice was carefully neutral. Svetlana thought she was beginning to understand Jasper. When he cared the most, he cut off his feelings, hid behind barriers, and sent his intellect to the fore. She wouldn’t tell him the whole truth. She didn’t see how sharing the full story would help either of them. Just telling him this much had helped her more than anything else had ever done. “Yes, they did. We recovered. You know some of what happened.” He nodded, his chin rubbing the top of her head, then he paused to stroke her hair some more, threading his fingers through the silky mass to massage the back of her head. “Cristos got you all out.” “Not all.” She blinked her tears away, remembering the colleagues she’d left behind. “Most. The CIA sent him to find out what the Soviets were learning about Talents and the psi senses. The paranoia of the Cold War sent him there, but his bosses didn’t know he was Talented too. That gave him the idea for the Department, sanctuary for so many of us. After he got us out, I became an American.” “So you did.” “I hold American citizenship. According to the records, I’m second generation, my parents Soviet refugees given asylum. It was Cristos’s idea to make my mother a Russian princess when I decided to go into modeling.” She smiled. “My real mother would have laughed at that.” She glanced up at him. “My name really is Svetlana, though my original surname wasn’t Yevchenko.” “That would put you…” He paused, calculating. “A hundred and ninety years old.” “Just the right age for a two-hundred-and-seventy-six year old man.”

32

Lynne Connolly

She felt his patience fizzle out when he dragged her to his mouth and took her in another dizzying kiss. She merged with him and again the magic happened, where the world contracted to just the two of them. Passion rose hard and fiery between them. Mouth devouring her, he mounted her and entered her again, sliding inside her welcoming heat as if he’d never been away. He gave and took, his movements jarring her with every stroke. She opened her legs as wide as she could, lifted her legs to curl them around him, holding him to her as if she’d never let him go. He drove hard within her until she felt every inch of him, his thrusts easy now in their combined juices, nudging her sweet spot with every stroke. His teeth gritted, his eyes were feral. “Feel your climax. Let me feel it too. Open to me, Svetlana.” The demand seared into her, and she did what he wanted. Her mind, her heart, and her body, all lay open for him to take. He cried out in his efforts to hold back for her, gasped but didn’t stop his hard thrusts. Every time he pounded into her, he stroked her deep inside, in a place none of her lovers had been before. A place that drove her wild, slowly building with each touch, each slap of his balls against her ass. He built them both until she blossomed for him, flowing up to reach his mind and his body. She didn’t realize she was crying his name until he answered her. “I’m here!” She opened her eyes to watch him, floating with the aftereffects of her orgasm but determined to bring him pleasure. When she urged him to roll on to his back, he went willingly, his eyes sparkling with pleasure, and she sat up to ride him to glory. He lifted his hands to cup her breasts, tweaking her nipples. “Do it, Svetlana. Fuck us both right into oblivion.” He felt right inside her, despite his size, as if some divine hand had crafted them for each other. She couldn’t think like that, not now, not while she was holding her mind open for him. He wanted her only for tonight, and she kept her bargains. So she loved him, fucked him, and watched him come apart. His mouth opened, his teeth gleaming wickedly in the glow of the dimmed lights, and a long, low cry emerged. His cry grew into a determined growl, and his eyes opened, sparking with renewed need. With a quick jerk of his body, Jasper sat up and drew one of her nipples into his mouth, pulling hard. The unexpectedness made her gasp and jerk away, but he was ready for her, lifting his knees to trap her between his mouth and his thighs. All she could do was gasp and moan as he drove her ever higher to another bright peak of ecstasy. “Jasper, how are you doing this?” She paused, panting. “Is this your Talent?” “No, it isn’t. I have more than one Talent, but in this, I’m just a man.” “Just?” So much she wanted to say that she couldn’t! My man, sprang to mind, but he wasn’t, and he never would be. So she settled on, “A man with a very big Talent.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

33

His sudden laughter shook her whole body and inside he nudged her in, that place he caressed with such skill. She cried out, her inner muscles contracting against him, and still laughing in triumph, he moved sinuously, rubbing inside her, catching the spot every time. “A little attention,” he murmured, slipping his arms around her back so he could hold her steady and keep her in place, “A little caress, and it’s done. You’re a delight to make love to, my sweet. I could do it --” She hardly noticed when he cut his words off sharply, but the thought echoed in her mind: For the rest of my life. With Jasper fucking her to the heights of ecstasy, Svetlana had never worked so hard to conceal her thoughts before. She responded to those unspoken words with everything she had, yearning for more nights like this, until all their nights had gone. This hunger she had for him wouldn’t be assuaged. For all she knew it might never leave her. Physical sensations coursed through her as her mind, strangely detached, dealt with her feelings. She had no proof this was anything more than a friendly fuck. Jasper might believe this was normal. Perhaps it was, for him. Svetlana lost the ability to concentrate, or even think straight. Yet again, he left her helplessly panting his name, the only word she could think or articulate. His voice, low and intimate, came in broken gasps. “Just a little more, Svetlana. Higher, come with me. Oh yes!” The last word ended in a long hiss. His seed spurted hot inside her. Svetlana actually felt it as it left his body and entered hers, jets of hot masculinity. He fastened his mouth to hers for another kiss, for that moment giving her his whole attention, formidably intense, mind to mind locked in the most intimate way possible. Hot and sweaty, unbelievably content but with desire singeing her, even now, with his body hard against hers, his cock rampant in her pussy. She let her head fall forward on to his shoulder. “I can’t move.” His low, purred, “Mmm,” made her realize she wasn’t the only one. But he breathed deeply and leaned back to gaze at her. “Then don’t move. Let me take care of you.” When he lifted her up and off him, she murmured in protest. Having his body locked in hers had become natural. A flood of warm liquid ran out of her, but he hushed her with a soft kiss and laid her down on the wrecked sheets. “It’s us, and it’s good.” He drew a sheet over her. July in Paris was rarely cold, but his protective gesture warmed her. “Now sleep for a little while.” She reached for him but he caught her hands in his and tucked them under the sheet. “I’m going to pour a bath for us and find some cold white wine. We deserve that, after the day we’ve both had, don’t we?” In a lower voice, he added, “And the night. Though that’s not over yet.”

34

Lynne Connolly

Only now did she realize how tired she really was. He was right; they’d had an exhausting day. She let herself float into sleep with the scent of their lovemaking drifting over her. Holding Svetlana in his mind, Jasper belted his bathrobe around his waist and headed toward the kitchen for the wine and then the bathroom, but a clear note sounding in his head made him change direction. He went into the sitting room. “I thought you’d gone.” “I did,” said Cristos, leaning against the mantelpiece. “I came back.” “Why?” Cristos met his eyes straight on, silver-gray eyes so like his own, but where he knew his must be slumberous with passion, Cristos’s were sharp and observant. “You know why. You love her.” He gave his colleague a flat, “No.” “Have it your own way. But she loves you.” “No!” He fought the surge of joy that threatened to make him lose all reason. “She only enjoys me, as I enjoy her.” He pulled the tie of his robe more securely around him. “She’s a woman of the world. She knows the score. One night, that’s all.” “Svetlana Yevchenko is a prime operative and someone I respect. She has suffered great hurt in her life, and she doesn’t deserve any more. You will not hurt her.” “Don’t get all righteous on me, Cristos. We have all suffered great hurt. We learn to live with it.” Jasper turned away, heading for the kitchen. “Don’t turn your back on me, Jasper, I’ve not finished yet!” He turned back to Cristos in one fluid movement. “I apologize.” The moment’s respite gave him a chance to regain his self-control, always difficult with this man, who knew him better than anyone else. Now he could meet Cristos’s perceptive gaze blandly. “I know the dangers of getting too close to anyone.” Cristos met his regard with a level stare of his own. “You think you’re safe because she’s about to seduce Hugo Berthier. That’s the only reason you’re letting go tonight. Isn’t it?” He didn’t even try to hide it, but did conceal the pain he felt when he thought of her going to another man. That couldn’t be helped; it was the only way he was safe to have her now. “It’s the only way I can have this. Her liaison with Berthier will help her to put some distance between us, and tonight will enable us both to enjoy each other and then move on.” “And the thought of her with someone else…” This time his nod was terse. “I hate the idea, but we have to go through it. Both of us. I can’t take her any further.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

35

“Because you love her too much to put her through the kind of fate you think you’ll bring her.” “No.” That couldn’t be the case. The coming assignment would put blocks between them. It had to, because his feelings for Svetlana threatened to overturn his good sense. At some point tonight, loving her, as he loved Cristos and a few other people, threatened to turn into “in love.” He couldn’t allow that. It would bring her heartache he would never give to her if he could prevent it. It would be Cristos forcing him to face what he didn’t want to, trying to force him into taking a step he refused to take. “You think you know the dangers. Jasper, I’ve been married, and I’ve had long-term affairs. You could do the same.” “I can’t.” Jasper deliberately kept his face calm and his eyes clear of expression. “You know that.” Cristos shook his head. “I don’t believe in fate. Only that fate should be defied. If everything was written down before we’re born, what is the point of anything? Have you lost your nerve?” “No.” It took more nerve to do this than to go along with what he couldn’t change. “I’ve never known you so obsessed with a woman before. Not in this lifetime.” Cristos tossed his jacket down on a nearby chair, careless of the way it marred the careful arrangement of the room. “Give yourself a chance. You could love Svetlana.”

I already do. “I can’t. I mustn’t. You know what will happen. Every time, Cristos. Not occasionally, not skipping a generation but every fucking time!” He heard the despair in his voice and knew Cristos heard it too, but if he couldn’t trust this man, he couldn’t trust anyone. “I can bear being alone. I don’t want for female company, but I can’t get close. Every time they do --” “You die,” Cristos said emotionlessly. He brushed that away with an impatient hand. “It happens. Always. But it won’t happen this time.” He lifted his eyes to Cristos’s face. “I’ve lived longer than any lifetime before, and I don’t want to die yet.” He let his friend see all his anguish, the pain he kept locked deep inside him. “There have been twenty lives before me, and they’re the ones I remember. This -- entity -- that lives inside me, this being, makes it inevitable.” Cristos indrawn breath sounded harsh in the quiet room. “There has to be a way around it. God knows if you were cursed, you’ve atoned for it now.” He ran his hand over his close-cropped gray hair. “No curse, Cristos. Just the way it is. I won’t give Svetlana a living death by using her to try to break out of the trap my archetype has set for me.” “So what do you think my archetype is?” Cristos smiled, a challenging edge to his cynical expression. “War. You fight wars.”

36

Lynne Connolly

“I inspire. I don’t fight.” Jasper shook his head. “I’ve never known you anywhere but on the front line, my friend.” Cristos chuckled. “It’s where I feel most alive. But I’m not damned to it.” His face turned serious again. “I’m putting my mind to your problem. I swear we’ll find a way out of it.” “Meantime, I’ll continue the tactic that’s kept me out of trouble so far and has kept the people I care for most alive.” He lifted his head, as if scenting the air. “She’s stirring. You’ll forgive me, old friend, but if I only have tonight, I want to make the most of it.” Cristos averted his eyes. He didn’t want Jasper to see the sadness that suffused him now. Two badly damaged people who had fought their way back from madness and misery deserved what happiness they could find in each other. But this was not his battle, not his concern. He’d done what he could, tried to bring Jasper to a sense of what was really going on, what he sensed every time he entered a room containing these two people. The chemistry between them was undeniable, except they denied it to each other. As always, he turned his attention to business. “I’ll lend you Elaine Lostock and Virgilio Dubreis for this assignment. We need to stop that poison being made, and we need to do it fast.” He knew he couldn’t push Jasper any more, but he ached for them both. They belonged together, and Jasper was intent on driving Svetlana away. He might succeed. She wasn’t cursed, and she wouldn’t allow herself to remain forever locked to a fate she couldn’t defeat. Jasper closed his eyes, and Cristos heard the sound of pouring water. Jasper had used his telekinesis to turn on the faucets in the bath. A sound of dismissal if he ever heard one. “I don’t know the woman very well, though I know Dubreis.” A question lurked in his eyes, one that always arose when Dubreis was mentioned in Cristos’s presence, but he wouldn’t answer it. “Elaine’s a Sorcerer and one of my best agents. She’s strong, her Talents are considerable, and she hasn’t worked in Europe before.” “Where’s she been?” “In America. North and South. I’ve kept her pretty close. She’s a field agent, but she can take contract work, too. She’s a good shot, and she has martial arts skills. And she’s attractive enough to draw Berthier.” “She needs to be. Berthier collects women like he collects art. Beauty is his main consideration, but they don’t last long if they don’t have something else to interest him.” “She has that.” Jasper considered, frowning. “And Dubreis is a vampire. Is that wise, working on an assignment dealing with vampire poison?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

37

Cristos gave a terse nod. “I thought of that, but they have some skills we need on this assignment. Only vampires can flash themselves and others out of danger. If I were to choose one vampire, it would be Dubreis. He is a hybrid and stronger than most of his kind.” “Thanks.” This time when he turned, Jasper headed for the bathroom, effectively dismissing Cristos, who stared after him, frowning thoughtfully. This couldn’t continue. The self-enforced isolation would kill the humanity in Jasper’s spirit, as, he guessed, Jasper intended it to do. No spirit, no hurt. There must be a way out of the fate that held Jasper in its net.

38

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Six Jasper lifted Svetlana off the bed and carried her to the bathroom. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “I’m not that weak.” “Humor me,” was all he said, his handsome face grimly set. He set her on her feet beside a large ivory-colored bath, half-sunk into the floor. Then he stripped off his robe, tested the water, and climbed in, reaching up his arms to help her. When he sat down, he leaned against the bath and pulled her into his arms, so her back lay against his chest. She felt his cock, hard against her back. He caressed her, his hard palms sweeping down her body in long strokes. “This is what I should be celebrating in my work, the pure beauty of a real woman.” He cupped her breasts then slid his palms back down again. “Your skin is so soft, so silky. It’s a joy to touch.” She smiled. “I’m glad it brings you pleasure.” He stroked her buttocks and cupped them under the water. “You have lovely curves that should be celebrated and not suppressed.” “You’re an artist, Jasper.” “A craftsman,” he corrected her. “But don’t tell anyone.” She looked up at him, delighted by his flash of humor. Jasper Lebec had a wonderful natural smile, slightly onesided, his mobile mouth curving, his gray eyes full of mirth. She’d never seen him smile so wickedly before, or with the humor that lit him up, making her smile back. “I promise. Why did you go into fashion? It’s such a frivolous industry.” “It’s influential, and it’s powerful, especially here in France. We Department heads need positions of power to stand with the political leaders of our society. We can’t help other Talents if we don’t command respect. Or at the very least, gold. So I spent years making

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

39

money, moving from alias to alias, as we all do, before I went into this.” He paused, gazing into her eyes. “And I love beauty, I love women. When I saw the ateliers of Paris, I knew I’d found a home.” He stroked her back in rhythmic caresses, his other hand under her head, holding her close. She snuggled closer. Then she wriggled. “Don’t distract me, Svetlana. I’m working very hard on not falling on you like a rutting stag.” She caught her breath. “Why fight it? You want me that much?” “Yes.” “Then do it. Fuck me so that when I meet Hugo Berthier tomorrow, I’ll have part of you still with me.” His need excited her, that he would want her so much, so soon. “You’ll always have that.” He lifted her and slid under her body, his cock pushing briefly at her anus, then sliding up to her clit. She shuddered at the sensation that spiked through her. “But I’ll fuck you with great pleasure. I know you’re tired, but you’ll have to do without sleep for a while yet. I can’t get enough of you tonight.” His terse, clipped tones belied by the heat simmering in his body; she felt him put up blocks against something he didn’t want her to see. It might be Department business, but she thought not. It felt more personal than that. She dipped her fingers in the water and touched his cockhead. It felt silken, more so than out of the bath, but the skin resisted against her fingers for a moment. She pulled the tiny slit at the top open slightly. His low groan told her he liked it. Gently, so gently, so as to torment him more, she stroked him and curled her fingers under the ridge to explore him. He sat very still under her, and then he groaned. “Exquisite torture,” he whispered. “Never stop.” “That’s what I’d like. To never stop.” “Svetlana --” “Not now, Jasper.” She lifted her body enough to push him inside her. She used her fingers to ease him into her body and let her fingers push inside with him. Feeling him in her, with her, was addictive, and from the small whimpers Jasper was making, he liked it too. She tried an experimental probe and memorized the feeling of his body inside hers before she withdrew. She cupped his balls and caressed them. He slid his hands around her waist and up to her breasts, massaging and tugging her nipples in the way he’d already learned she liked. “Oh Jasper!” She gasped when he drove deep and hard, hitting the spot every time. Her fingers froze on his balls, unable to move while he brought her to orgasm, pulling and tweaking, thrusting deeply. She was his. She’d always be his. Not that she’d tell him. This was a night of hot sex, frantic fucking, nothing more.

40

Lynne Connolly

One day, she might be able to believe it. He rocked into her, holding her tight so all she could do was brace her feet against the sides of the bath and watch and feel. He plunged deep, his body hard under her ass and against her back. Bending to her, he nibbled and sucked at her neck until she turned her head and blindly met his lips. His tongue thrust into her mouth in sparkling counterpoint to his thrusts into her pussy. “There’s no one to hear you except me,” he whispered, his breath sinfully hot against the tender flesh of her neck. “Scream for me. Show me how much you want me.” She needed no more encouragement. She opened her mouth to cry out for him and for herself, letting him take her higher until she regained a little bit of control and pushed against him. His hand slid down her body to her stomach, and he pressed in with the palm. “Oh God, I can feel us. Svetlana -- darling -- this is so good!” With one more thrust, he released a flood inside her, and she felt the semen come as his balls tightened and pumped the fluid up his cock to erupt inside her eager body. Still inside her, he turned her. This bath was large enough for her to sit sideways on his lap. He took her in a long, lingering kiss, caressing her mouth. Svetlana let herself subside into his arms, and they relaxed while Jasper pressed a few buttons on the control panel at his side that let out a little water to make room for more hot. “Thank you, Jasper.” “For what?” His breath caressed her cheek and he kissed her again. “This isn’t just for you, my beauty.” “For letting me in this far.” His fingers stilled on her skin before he resumed his rhythmic stroking but tension simmered in the air between them and she felt him erect a block in his mind. “It’s as far as you’ll get. Believe it, Svetlana.” “Oh, I do.” A bitter tone entered her voice. “This is more than sex. Isn’t it?” She had to know. Making love with Jasper was just that -- making love. His mind caressed hers, entered it, melded with it, just as his body did. Svetlana wasn’t given to high romance, but she felt it with him. They were one. Why fight it? Ignoring the sudden stiffness in his limbs, she ploughed on. “I -- I could love you, Jasper.” “No!” With a convulsive thrust, he shoved her away. “You cannot. In case you’d forgotten, you’re about to seduce someone else into taking you into his high security factory, so we can stop the production of a drug that could kill hundreds of our kind. You don’t need money; you don’t need acclaim, but I knew you wanted this.” He paused. “So did I.” She drew away from him, pulling up her feet so she didn’t have to touch him. Chills coursed through her despite the hot water surrounding them. As she watched, he withdrew from her. His mind left hers; his body regained the haughty, arrogant posture she was used to in Jasper Lebec. The man was once more locked away in his ivory tower, impregnable.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

41

“So all this is for me?”

“Yes.” He tilted his chin, daring her to contradict him.

“You’re a liar.” She got to her feet and reached for a towel as she climbed out of the

bath. “And a coward. You know there’s more to this than simple fucking. One time was enough to tell me that I felt more than lust for you, and you knew it too. But you won’t give in, will you? What is it? Don’t you trust me enough? Do you need to keep everyone at arms’ length?” With trembling hands, she fastened the towel firmly under her breasts and brought both hands to her long hair, twisting the moisture out of it. Pragmatic actions she performed every day anchored her to reality. Jasper stared at her, his gaze roaming in a leisurely way over her as if he were the emperor and she the slave. “Call it a reward,” he drawled. His expression infuriated her, even more than his rejection. She knew what she’d seen, what they’d shared but if he chose to ignore it, she wouldn’t crawl, wouldn’t beg. He had to come to realize it as she did; this was more than sex, deny it all he liked. “I’m more than that, Jasper. I won’t trail after you like a lovesick teenager, but I hope tonight has given you a taste of what you’ll be missing. I’m going after Berthier, and when he has me in his bed, I’m going to call for you, show you what you could have had.” She strode to the bathroom door. “I’ll see myself out.”

42

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Seven Wearing the prescribed sexy lace underwear beneath her deceptively simple black dress, Svetlana smiled at Hugo Berthier over her wineglass, knowing exactly how much to show to encourage him without giving him a direct come-on. He had to work for her; otherwise, he wouldn’t appreciate her when he finally got her. From her research, she knew Berthier enjoyed the chase. This was her job, and she was damned good at it. She rarely gave out -- she rarely had to -- but this time she knew that if Hugo asked for it, she’d have to give him what he wanted. Hence the fancy underwear. She repressed a shudder. How could she let anyone touch her now, except for Jasper? Their night together had been a glorious disaster. A night she’d never forget, one that surpassed all other nights in her life but one that would never happen again. She meant what she’d said -- if he hadn’t the courage to offer her more, to give her his love, then she wouldn’t trail after him, begging for it. She had more respect for herself than that. “Topaz?” Svetlana blinked and smiled at Hugo Berthier. “I’m sorry, Hugo. My mind drifted. It’s been a tough week.” He leaned back, regarding her closely, his dark eyes narrowed to glittering slits. “Yes, I can see the signs of strain on you. You need a holiday.” As if suddenly struck by an idea, he put down his wineglass. “I know! It’s July, so everyone will be leaving Paris. I have to leave tomorrow on business, but I’ll be going down to Cannes in a day or two, to my yacht, and although I have a little business to see to there as well, I intend to combine it with pleasure. Why not join me?” Surely it couldn’t be that easy. Unless it was a trap of course. She wasn’t blind to the dangers. If Berthier knew what she was and wanted to capture her, a few shots of Cephalox, the drug that prevented shifters from changing their form,

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

43

would do the trick. And if he knew about Solution X, the chances were he’d know about Cephalox. Svetlana realized she didn’t care. She just wanted to get away from Paris and Jasper Lebec. Danger might be what she needed right now. “Business? In July?” He shrugged. “My main factory is in Grasse, a short drive from the coast. I need to pay a visit.” He brightened. “It’s the place where we make your perfume, Topaz Delirium. You might want to come with me.” She picked up her fork. “That sounds perfect.” That factory, like other perfume factories, was heavily locked down with security even a Talent couldn’t penetrate. All she needed was to get inside and scan it for any sense of Cephalox or Solution X, anyone who knew about it, because if they knew, they were involved. “Thank you, I’d love to accept.” “Excellent.” Berthier’s eyes gleamed with anticipated desire. “When can you get away?” She pretended to think about it, tilting her head to one side, releasing a fall of red-gold hair over her shoulder. She knew the sensual effect that had. It was her job to know how her body looked in different poses, and she rarely forgot it. Only with Jasper, had she completely given way to instinct. “Very soon, I think. I have a fitting this afternoon at Lebec’s, then nothing for a while. I told my agent to give me a holiday. I’d planned a quiet break in the country, but your yacht sounds marvelous. Where is it berthed?” “Nice,” Hugo said, with the carelessness born of taking such things for granted. Svetlana reflected that the cost of the berth in Nice would have kept her whole family housed and fed for a year or more, once upon a time. But she couldn’t shift the dream of herself and Jasper, aboard a different yacht, alone except for the ship’s crew. Then she’d care more. Her clit tingled, actually tingled, at the memory of his body in hers. She shifted in her seat, easing her sore, swollen muscles a little. If Berthier wanted her tonight, he’d hurt her for sure. But she’d do it. She needed to put someone between her and Jasper. She desperately needed to claim her emotions back and make her feelings her own again. His final rejection stung so badly she’d spent most of the day on the brink of tears. “How long will it take you to shop and pack?” She shrugged, showing nothing of her inner turmoil. “A day, maybe less.” Berthier raised a brow. “Only a day? It takes Louise a week to shop and plan for even the smallest trip.” Svetlana gave him a smile. “There are still clothes from the couture shows around for me to take. Usually designers pay me to wear their clothes, not the other way about.” Now he laughed outright, showing bright, even teeth. In the old days, Frenchmen were known for their bad teeth, a result of poor dentistry and heavy smoking, but these days no one smoked, and dental cosmeticians were everywhere. And every set of teeth looked the

44

Lynne Connolly

same. Much like the Botoxed, face-lifted women all resembled each other, with their stretched-on skin and their sculpted, perky-boobed bodies. Svetlana was getting old and cynical. Mostly old. Or maybe she was just tired. She liked Berthier, or had, until suspicion fell on him. Amusing, intelligent, and sophisticated…all the things she liked in a man. And good-looking, too. She couldn’t forget that. “So the day after tomorrow?” “That sounds wonderful.” She remembered to smile. After this assignment, she’d take a long rest somewhere quiet. A very long rest on her own. Perhaps no more jobs until prêt-à-porter week in September, except for the shoots already arranged. Most of those were for Jasper and his Topaz Delirium perfume. She was the signature model for that line. Although, considering recent events, he might want to reconsider that. Or she might. Anger still simmered through her at the way he’d turned away from her last night. She’d never give him the opportunity to do that ever again. Except that just before he’d cut himself off, she felt a flash of something strangely like fear. What had she said that caused it? Berthier continued, sublimely unaware of her inner turmoil. “It will be just you and me and a few other guests. My wife is engaged in her dress fittings and shopping.” He glanced at his plate, which contained a delectable concoction of strawberries and spun sugar, grimaced, and pushed it away. “I have no idea what her plans are after that.” “And the visit to the factory? Isn’t that a bit unusual?” “Very. We don’t often allow anyone apart from authorized staff inside.” He lifted his glass and looked over its rim at her. “But the staff will be charmed to meet you, and I hardly think it likely that you’re engaged in industrial espionage.” Bingo. She smiled, at ease now. This was a world she was used to, where networking went on even on vacation. She raised her glass. “I’m looking forward to the trip.” “That and getting to know you better.” Berthier lifted his glass and toasted her. Svetlana suppressed her shudder. This would help her get over Jasper. She’d never forget him, always want him, but time would help her bear the pain and make it less sharp. It had better because there was nothing there for her. Berthier lifted his finger to summon the waiter, without taking his gaze away from her. “I am glad you finally decided to descend to my level.” He ended with a smile, indicating he wasn’t entirely serious. They left the restaurant to the usual cacophony. Her public kiss with Jasper the day before had roused the media to a feeding frenzy. Plus, it was July, and very little else was going on. Jasper grabbed their attention, and now seeing her leave after lunching with someone else, they were orgasmic in their fervor. Dear God, she was only a model.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

45

Berthier took her to a car and ushered her inside. “I’ll leave you here, my dear. What time would you like me to send the car for you? The yacht awaits your pleasure.” “Two p.m. would probably be best,” she said. “No, wait. I can be ready in the morning. If it’s not too much trouble, send the car at nine.” Like she’d get any sleep that night. She was exhausted, but sleep was far from her mind. Seeing what pills could do to others, she rarely took any herself, but she might have to resort to them before she was done. Jasper hadn’t let her sleep much last night, and paradoxically, she wouldn’t sleep properly for many nights to come because of that. The car took her to Jasper’s atelier, on the Champs-Élysées. The inevitable photographers stood there, too. She could have sworn some of them had been outside the restaurant. They would bike through the streets, on scooters and mopeds, to the danger of traffic and pedestrian alike, since they didn’t much care if they drove on the road or on the pavement. She swept past them, ignoring their frantic cries and screams. Some even whispered and she heard them all, every one. Her name, sometimes accompanied by insults, sometimes outrageous flattery, but mostly provocative questions. “Topaz, are you and Jasper Lebec an item now?” “Are you fucking Lebec and Berthier? How about three in a bed?” But it was “Did you poison Susan Armstrong because of her affair with your lover?” that nearly made her lose it. Fuck, she must be tired if she let a question like that get to her. She couldn’t disguise her pause before she reached the safety of the smoked-glass doors, but she could turn it into something else. In what she’d privately labeled “a stupid model moment,” she turned and smiled vacantly, giving them a perfect pose, one foot in front of the other, chin up but only for an instant. She didn’t hold it long enough for most of them to get a decent shot. When she turned and went in, ignoring their pleas, they probably got the message that she wasn’t happy with them. Tension made her stop inside and take a few deep breaths. Today was just a preliminary fitting, a check to make sure her size was precisely the same as ever, that her toile, the muslin pattern that formed the master for all the garments Jasper designed for her, was still a perfect fit. He would probably not even be there. But he was. She felt his presence all the way upstairs, to the large workroom at the top of the building. Up until that floor, everything had been elegant and expensive, the public showrooms with the gilt chairs set by the walls, the expanses of polished wood and plush carpeting. All for show, to attract the customers fashion houses needed to court to make them successful.

46

Lynne Connolly

But here, in this large room where clients never came, the walls were a true, untinted white and windows on either side of the room poured light onto the bare, white vinyl floor. The minute she stepped through the swinging doors, her awareness of Jasper spiked to fever pitch. To hide her emotions, inappropriate here, she unbuttoned her blouse as she walked through to the center of the room, to prepare herself for the fitting. She wanted to get this over with, and modesty had no place here. Madame waited for her, the inevitable tape measure draped around her neck, standing majestically before her assistants, all of them dressed in simple black. That tape measure was a badge of honor as much as it served any practical purpose. Just behind Madame Morel stood Jasper Lebec, looking as he always did, severely elegant, a shockingly masculine presence in this female enclave. Except he was the reason for it, the dark sun around which all the other satellites revolved. Svetlana was glad she’d renewed her makeup in the taxi. He didn’t try to contact her in the intimate way they’d established last night. Neither did she, sparing him a curt nod and ensuring all her mental barriers stood strong against him, only revealing the small part of her mind open to all telepaths. She greeted them coolly. “Good afternoon, Mâitre Jasper, Madame Morel, ladies,” careful to keep the ranks strictly in order, more rigid than any courtly etiquette. The ladies nodded, and Jasper inclined his head a fraction. Svetlana stripped methodically, revealing the sexy lace underwear she’d donned for Berthier. Then she felt him in her mind. Just once, briefly, she felt his hurt. For an instant of time, she was glad that she wasn’t the only one suffering. Then she felt sorry for her stab of schadenfreude. This would pass. “I haven’t fucked him. Yet.” “I didn’t need to know that.” He sounded almost savage, and he left her before he returned, calm, once more. “Never tell me that. If you must, talk to Will Grady, or Cristos, or Viviana but not me. C’est tout.” She held her arm up so Madame could slip the toile on her. “At least I know they won’t shut me out.” His head went up as if she’d slapped him, but she kept her face still and the forefront of her mind calm. She wouldn’t show him any more than he was showing her. She turned her back to him when Madame twitched at the toile. “She needs to lose some weight. See, Mâitre Jasper, the toile pulls at the seams.” “No,” he said. “Label this one with the date and make a new one.” “Mâitre, she will develop” -- Madame shuddered delicately -- “curves. She will ruin the lines of the gown.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

47

“I’m redesigning,” he said briefly. “I looked the collection over this morning, and I want a different approach. Curves will work.” Madame stiffened for a mere instant. Svetlana only felt it because she was busy pinning the new seam lines on the toile, and she felt the stillness, Then Madame’s hands resumed their industrious work, and the moment passed. A moment that might change the direction of Paris’s couture industry. “I had lunch with Berthier. That’s probably why the seams pull.” His gazed flicked up and down her body, as dispassionate as always. “I noticed you’ve put on a little weight. It suits my new designs. About half a centimeter around your waist.” “I’m going to his yacht, and I’m to meet him there. It’s moored at Nice. We have a tour arranged around the factory. I leave in the morning.” No response from his cold, hard face and a brief, acknowledgement mentally. “Very good.” Jasper stepped forward and continued the conversation aloud. “Topaz, I want you to get some rest. The shadows under your eyes aren’t attractive. I want you back here in a month for preliminary fittings for the prêt-à-porter range. Make sure you’re sufficiently rested for that.” “Get the job done and get out of there. Scan the factory, discover if Solution

X is being made there, and if there are Talents imprisoned there, let me know and leave. I’ll handle it from there.” “Why ?” “Because Berthier is a dangerous man. More than I’d thought him to be. You’re capable of taking care of yourself; otherwise I wouldn’t send you in alone.” A pause. “I’m sending others in as backup. One of Cristos’s agents, unknown in Europe and someone you’ve worked with before, Virgilio Dubreis the vampire. I’ll let you know nearer the time.” “How ?”

“I’ll call you.”

She nearly smiled. Telepathy didn’t work over long distances, but cell phones did.

48

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Eight “Who are you talking to, darling?” Berthier leaned down to give his latest acquisition a fond kiss, oblivious to the other guests draped over the sun loungers on the deck. He was fully aware the women were all looking at him, waiting for him to crook a finger. Perhaps that was why he adored Topaz. Her cool demeanor suited him. “Just Jasper.” She gave him a winning smile, although he wasn’t sure her mind was on him. He narrowed his eyes, and her smile turned cooler. Perfect. Any other woman would immediately hang up, keen to please him but not Topaz. He loved a challenge. “Yes, Jasper, we should be somewhere near there. Why?” She listened. “Really?” Without asking him to hold the line, she turned to Hugo. “Jasper wonders if we’re anywhere near Monaco.” “Don’t you know?” She lowered her eyes, then lifted them and stared at him, dazzling him with their goldamber intensity. “I’ve been busy.” This time her smile was all for him. That was better. “Give me the phone and let me see what he wants.” She handed him her cell without hesitation. Without looking away from her, he tossed it into the sea and held out his hand to her. “I’m not interested right now. He’ll understand. Come and play.” Hugo’s hand twitched, and Svetlana knew this was the moment she’d been dreading. Time to put the first experience between her and Jasper behind her, to begin to forget. This yacht was as much of a prison as the little cell in Siberia had been, but at least it was a luxurious prison.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

49

Hugo had been on the yacht for two days and hadn’t been near her. Every night she lay awake in the cabin she’d been assigned, the one next to his, and waited. But he hadn’t come. She feared she was losing her touch, but now she felt sex in the air; she could taste it. She forced a smile. “What have you planned?” “I think you’ll be surprised.” He escorted her to the large stateroom below, and the other guests still on deck followed them down. Its windows faced the sea, not the picturesque town of Juan-les-Pins, where the yacht was currently moored. Svetlana suspected the short cruise from Nice to Juan-les-Pins was all the traveling this vessel was going to do this trip. Several other guests were already gathered there and a couple of members of staff, but they weren’t carrying drinks trays around. When Svetlana entered, they applauded, though she suspected it wasn’t for her, it was for the man holding her hand. He took her to a sofa and sat her down, taking the seat next to her. One of the waiters, still performing the job he was paid for, offered her a drink from a tray. Svetlana took it, smiling, and took a cautious sip. Quite a strong cocktail a mixture of alcohol and fruit juice. She wouldn’t have more than one of these if she could help it. “I thought I would introduce you to a little afternoon entertainment,” Hugo said easily. As he spoke, one of the bar staff, a man called John, lifted his hand and unclipped the bikini top of the woman introduced to Svetlana earlier as Chantal. She shook the top free, laughing at him, and he tweaked a nipple playfully. One woman, a photography model Svetlana vaguely knew, lifted a brow in her direction. “Are you playing?” Hugo answered for her. “Not right now, Jackie darling.” Svetlana took another sip to hide her nervous swallow. However many times she found herself in a situation like this, she never rid herself of the tense nervousness. Sometimes the nerves morphed into excitement, but today sex was the last thing she wanted to think about. Absolutely the last. To take her mind off the scene in front of her, she scanned the girls with a critical eye. One was tall and thin, a bit like her, with small boobs and slim, boyish hips. The model type. But her eyes were too close together for photographic work, or maybe the makeup artist could work on that because they were a pretty shade of green, and her hair, dyed a light auburn, went with them beautifully. She knew the hair was dyed because the girl was now naked, her partner having untied the strings of her bikini bottoms a moment ago, and her bush was very dark. If this girl -- Elaine, the “someone” Jasper sent to help on this assignment -- wanted to enhance her body, she should perhaps trim it a bit. Or maybe not. The way her partner was insinuating his long, dark fingers into her curls was definitely sexy. A good look, she reflected, unable to prevent her critical sense of aesthetics from coming into play. The man’s skin gleamed. It was a luscious shade of dark brown, like good quality bitter chocolate. His hair, worn very short, was dyed blond. Idly Svetlana wondered what his and

50

Lynne Connolly

Elaine’s hair would look like together, dark and blond and then she didn’t have to wonder any more because her partner suddenly knelt and buried his nose in Elaine’s bush. “His name’s Jermaine,” Hugo murmured into Svetlana’s ear. She jumped a little but regained her composure, letting Hugo sweep her hair aside and plant a kiss on her neck. “I might let you play with him sometime,” he murmured. Elaine gasped sharply and jerked back in instant reaction to Jermaine’s bold tonguing, but there was someone there to support her -- a man Svetlana knew. Virgilio Dubreis, vampire. His long, dark hair swept his shoulders, his eyes glittered with desire, his mouth lay slightly open to reveal gleaming white teeth. Svetlana had never had sex with Virgilio, but she’d wondered what lay underneath his usually highly idiosyncratic clothes. Now she had a chance to see. Lean, hard body bulging with muscle and…hot damn, he had nipple rings! They gleamed when he moved, catching the sunlight falling through the large window. Virgilio was a living witness to the fact that vampires didn’t melt or burst into flame in the sun, but their skin was usually sensitive to sunlight. Virgilio’s skin was tanned. All over. Another myth shattered. He was a hybrid, though, the son of a vampire and another Talent. All Talents bred true, their offspring was one or other, not a weird combination of both, but they often developed some weird-ass extra Talents. Maybe Virgilio’s was sex. Jasper had a gift for sex, too. When he’d entered her mind, he’d sensed what she needed and used it to heighten her pleasure, as if the knowledge was instinctive. Virgilio showed the same ability. Could Virgilio’s unknown parent, the one he never talked about, be the same mysterious Talent that Jasper and Cristos were? Svetlana could see Virgilio’s dick pressing against Elaine’s nearly flat ass, the slight curve enhancing rather than concealing his hard length. He held her steady while the African got busy down below, snaking his long tongue into Elaine’s slit. Svetlana’s attention was caught by Chantal and Jackie, busy enjoying each other too. Jackie stood with the piano supporting her at her back, and Jackie was at her front, sucking her nipples and stroking her hips and thighs, one hand firmly working in and out of her. As she watched, John eased himself behind them, and Jackie moved back, accepting John’s cock in her mouth as easily as she’d been working Chantal. At Chantal’s groan, John slid his hand around to her, taking over where Jackie had left off, pumping his fingers deep into her. Svetlana felt a hand on her back. Hugo reached down and untied the strings holding her bikini top to her body, and then pushed up under her hair and undid the halter top. The top slid off her. Hastily she scanned for cameras, and her consciousness clashed with Virgilio’s, doing the same thing. “No cameras active,” his subliminal voice said, so calmly it made her blink in surprise. “They keep burning out. The engineer thinks it’s a hidden short circuit, but we know better.” She might have known Virgilio would be onto the cameras. He would have no desire to be filmed for posterity, any more than she did at this moment.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

51

Hugo slipped an arm around her shoulder and drew her to him. He wore only swimming trunks, but they were of the shorts variety rather than the Speedo kind, so his erection was visible but not straining. And by what she could see, not particularly impressive. “You like to watch?” “Not particularly, but these people are very skilled.” She wasn’t lying. Her crotch had dampened. “They know how to put on a good show.” “Elaine hasn’t done this before, but I detected her little secret and invited her along. She never understood how much she adores being watched until I introduced her to my games. Virgilio has done this before, he says, but I’ve never seen him. He’s very skilled. I love to watch men fucking women senseless. Watching two men go at each other is a turn-on, too, and I’m sure Virgilio and John will oblige if we ask them. Sometimes I enjoy it even more than doing it myself.” Svetlana slipped into his mind and discovered that Hugo was telling the truth. He loved to watch. She also picked up another little nugget; Hugo was an underperformer. He found it more relaxing to watch because of his recent problems, and the little blue pills didn’t suit him; they made him nauseous. These performers were human Viagra to Hugo. That explained why he hadn’t touched her, why he preferred to watch, even why he kept his female guests nearly naked all the time. He needed the stimulation. Hugo was a well-built, good-looking man, but she couldn’t bear him touching her, couldn’t bear anyone but Jasper. Her idea to use Hugo to get over her obsession with Jasper was a nonstarter because she couldn’t bear the thought of Hugo taking her. Of any other man taking her. Spending the night with Jasper had only increased her need for him. And because she knew nothing would come of that obsession, she had to force herself to go on without him. But she needed a respite, time to get the vivid visions of Jasper out of her mind. Perhaps a period of celibacy was the answer. It would certainly make a change. So she planted a little suggestion into Hugo’s mind. And with delight, she watched his erection slowly subside. It was going to be one of Hugo’s bad days. Hugo put a hand on her breast. Svetlana probably deserved that; he wasn’t going to give up easily. He tweaked her nipple, the sensation pleasant, if not the man doing it, and she forced herself to relax against him and watch the performers. Elaine gave her a secret smile, which she returned. With one hot man eating her out and another caressing and stimulating the rest of her, Elaine had a lot to smile about. Virgilio cupped Elaine’s breasts and pushed her forward, enough to free his cock, which now jutted angrily toward her body. Virgilio was a tall man, and he had to bend his knees before he could slide his cock under her and into her pussy. Hugo and Svetlana had front row seats for this one. Jermaine’s tongue lapped them both as Virgilio worked in and out of Elaine’s soaking wet body. His hands tightened on her tits, dragging her head back for a kiss. His tongue, pinkly inviting, slid into her mouth,

52

Lynne Connolly

playing with hers as Jermaine jabbed his equally pink tongue into Elaine’s cleft, occasionally pausing to lick Virgilio’s balls when they came close enough to his face. Virgilio worked Elaine hard, pounding into her with punishing force. Svetlana slid further into Hugo’s mind, feeling his barriers soften along with his cock. His hand fondled her breasts almost absently, as if his mind were elsewhere. Svetlana found him watching the lovers like a connoisseur might examine a fine oil painting, with restrained passion, cynicism, and a fine eye for the best in the genre. Hugo, she discovered, spent a lot of time watching. She extracted the information that Louise enjoyed it too, but Hugo was uncertain if his wife pretended for his sake or had a true interest in the activity. At least, she thought skeptically, it gave Louise a chance to fuck different men in front of her husband and that, she suspected, was the real draw. Infidelity was a way of life for these two, but she got no sense of unwilling partners. They didn’t force; they persuaded. Louise was very good at persuading, and Hugo liked that in her. Under the sexual playfulness was a real business relationship, the bedrock of their marriage. They’d married for mutual convenience; Hugo needed the money Louise brought him, and Louise enjoyed running the businesses with him and the foothold the perfume industry gave her in the world of fashion. They would have been content as business partners, but marriage brought them stability and extra legal advantages. With her mind firmly locked on to Hugo’s, his barriers relaxed, Svetlana slid in further before meeting a block. She backed off, trying another way. She could penetrate some mental blocks, but not these. They were strong and well constructed, impossible for her to pierce without some kind of key. Soon she found herself in a labyrinth, passage after passage coming to a dead end and she knew the confusion in Hugo’s mind had been set by a master. She had no idea if Hugo had done it himself or if someone had done it for him -- or to him. If she didn’t withdraw back to the relative safety of the outer layers, her presence would be detected, either by Hugo or the person controlling him. Svetlana knew she’d have to get Hugo deep into the intimacy of sex before she could penetrate further. Shit. She withdrew, unable to discover any more, for now. Elaine was screaming, and sweat ran down Virgilio’s well-toned flanks, but he didn’t let up, pistoning into her body. The other set of lovers paused to watch. John, inside Chantal now from behind, propped his head on her shoulder, and Jackie sat on the floor, her head against Chantal’s thigh, dark curls tumbling down her partner’s white skin. Hugo enjoyed the sight of the lovers mid-fuck as much as he savored Virgilio’s violent action. Jermaine was finding it difficult to lick Elaine, but he finally grabbed hold of her clit with his teeth and worked it with his tongue, letting Virgilio make most of the effort. The muscles in Virgilio’s arms bulged as he gripped Elaine’s hips to hold her steady, and he kept up the half-bent stance, his sinews and muscles effortlessly supporting his awkward position.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

53

Svetlana knew from experience that keeping that stance took a lot of effort. She’d done it herself in less compromising circumstances on a swimwear shoot. The team intended to insert the body of a dolphin in later between her spread, bent legs, but holding the pose had hurt, and she’d ended up pulling a muscle in her leg and spending several days on her back, although she’d had a very pretty houseboy to keep her company and massage her better. Good times. Before she’d met Jasper Lebec and entered her current phase, hopelessly in love with the jerk. Hopefully that would soon pass, and he’d just be another lover in a string of them, relegated to the post of “good times but gone” in her address book. Elaine screamed, and Virgilio gasped as he came. Svetlana could almost feel the hot semen jetting into Elaine’s body by the way Virgilio jerked against her. Jermaine continued to lap, his licks diminishing and slowly traversing over her labia, her thighs, her stomach, as he made his way up to her. Virgilio slid out of her body, and Jermaine thrust in with hardly a heartbeat between the change. “You want him?” Hugo’s voice was loud enough for them to hear. So that was what he wanted. If Hugo wasn’t up to it today, he’d watch her with someone else and get his jollies that way. Svetlana yawned. “Had him. Probably have him again but not now; it’s too hot today. Let them do the work, Hugo. We’ll enjoy the show.” She allowed her body to slide down and laid her head in Hugo’s lap, just below his nonexistent erection. “If I fall asleep, wake me up.” “No offence, Virgilio.” “None taken.”

***** Leaning over his drawing board, Jasper made himself get down to business. If he wanted to redesign the prêt-à-porter collection, he needed to do it now, or nothing would be ready by September. He’d have to get the whole workshop working around the clock. He didn’t do that very often, but when he did, he expected his employees to jump to it. Fashion was a cutthroat business, and once a reputation slipped, it slid with alarming speed right down to the “once-was-but-no-more” sector. A good designer could revive a venerable house, as Lagerfeld had done at Chanel, but Jasper’s house was a new one and bore his name. Under pressure, Jasper did as he always did: gritted his teeth and carried on. Seeing Svetlana above him in bed in all her womanly glory had come as an epiphany to Jasper. The original prêt-à-porter collection had been all hard lines and geometric precision, but he wanted something different now. While the precision could remain, he wanted curves back. Fluid, soft curves, reflecting the woman inside the clothes, drawing people to her with a hint of sensuality and mystery.

54

Lynne Connolly

Jasper stared into space. This was the first time he’d used the drawing board in his private room since he brought Svetlana here, and it could well be the last time, too. Inspiration had fled. He’d brought the image of Svetlana lost in ecstasy time and time again, and while it was something he’d never tire of, something he needed to remember, the likeness didn’t inspire him to create the way he’d imagined it would. He couldn’t get past the feel of her, the way they belonged together. Her breasts, so soft and full, rubbing his chest until he thought he’d be happy to die that way, until another push took him even higher. High. He lingered on the last word. Svetlana was a firebird. She flew. He couldn’t use that, not directly, but perhaps something else. He began to scribble on the large sheet of paper, scrawling over the sketches of a woman’s form he customarily began his designs on. High. Spiritual high, drug high, flying high. He didn’t stop until he’d filled the left side of the paper with all the highs he could think of. Then he looked at them and smiled. He had his theme. On the right side, he thought of the colors with which he wanted to work. His last collection had been all bronzes and creams with spikes of pink and turquoise for accent. This one would be the colors of autumn, greens, rusts, ivories. The colors that suited Svetlana best. That thought stopped him. She’d be there now, probably in Hugo Berthier’s bed. Right now. Agony ripped through him, so suddenly he hadn’t time to shield himself from the pain. And he’d sent her there. Jasper knew she hadn’t wanted to go. There was no point in her staying, no point in telling her the truth behind his rejection of her. It would only make two people miserable instead of one. Let her get over him. He looked down at his work. A smudge marred the pencil marks. One tear. That was all he could afford to shed. He didn’t believe in stupidly ignoring the obvious, either. Especially when it involved a woman he…loved. No! He didn’t love her. He was fond of her, he cared for her, and she was a friend. That was all. Because with love came the curse, the history. Whatever anyone wanted to call it. Angrily he went back to work. Another kind of high… He discovered shades of burning red and orange to express the flash of anger and his deep hurt. He couldn’t tell what time it was when the doorbell chimed except that the sun had moved across to the other side of the apartment building. This room had a clear north-south aspect, windows on both sides. So the afternoon was well advanced, although this being July, it wouldn’t get dark for some hours yet. Louise waited at his front door, resplendent in one of his latest creations, from the summer collection shown back in February. She wore it better than any model, immaculate as if she’d just left the showroom. Nothing stirred in Jasper except weariness. He wanted time alone, to nurse his hurt and redesign his collection. For Svetlana. He’d give her that, and she’d have to accept it.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

55

“Jasper!” Louise’s kiss was maybe a little too fulsome and accidentally on purpose aimed at his mouth, not his cheek. “Do come in, Louise.” He took her to the living area and poured her a glass of Oloroso without her having to ask. “Thank you.” She sighed and gazed around her. “This is such a beautiful apartment. I would love to buy it from you.” “You can’t, I’m afraid. It’s owned by the House of Lebec, not by me.” He didn’t tell her that sometimes, tiring of the perfection around him, he checked into a hotel and spent an evening drinking from the minibar and watching trashy TV. Louise would never understand that impulse. She pouted. Not a good look for anyone over forty. “Maybe you can help me with another problem to make up for it.” “I’ll do anything I can.” Even fuck her, he realized with a heavy heart. Louise set her sights on him and had been chasing him ever since Svetlana left Paris. It had been a relief when Dubreis arrived and fucked Louise before leaving for his job on Hugo’s yacht, but once the vampire had gone, Louise had come back. “I bear an invitation.” Ah. Here it came. “Hugo has arranged a tour of his factory in Grasse, the one making Topaz Delirium perfume. So Hugo and I wondered if you’d like to join us.” He tried not to look as if that was the last thing he wanted, because Svetlana was there, and he wanted to be away from her. Because he wanted her. Even the thought of that slim, silky body made his cock twitch. But it would give him the chance to scan the factory for himself. When he turned, he saw where Louise’s gaze had strayed. To that telltale bulge in his pants. Fuck. The self-centered Louise would assume that was for her. “I’m not sure I can get away, Louise.” “That is a shame, because a little bird told me that Hugo wanted to send all his guests away except one, Svetlana Yevchenko. He’s obsessed with her, at the moment. He has his little passions from time to time, and I find it more convenient to ignore them, but this is too public. He’s lost his mind and his discretion. Hugo and I have a very comfortable arrangement, but if he does anything so blatant, I’d be forced to take action. I cannot allow him to publicly humiliate me like that.” “He wouldn’t do anything so crass, would he?” And make Svetlana a corespondent in a nasty divorce case. Then he realized who the little bird must be. Virgilio Dubreis, making mischief and pushing Louise into thinking of her own self-interest. Jasper doubted Hugo would want to provoke Louise into taking her ball back home, so the rumor probably had no truth behind

56

Lynne Connolly

it. But it had worked. Dubreis was under orders to befriend Louise, so this rumor was to get her on board the yacht and away from Jasper. The man was a fast worker. Jasper admired his strategy. Louise finished her sherry. “Hugo’s crazy about Svetlana Yevchenko. Insane. That lanky bitch wants to take Hugo away from me, but he won’t leave me, you know. I hold the purse strings. So come down with me. Accept the invitation to tour the factory and visit the yacht.” “Won’t that piss Hugo off?” “Oh yes. Very much. But it will stop the inevitable scandal.” She shrugged. “Who knows? We might have a party of our own.” Not if he could help it. Imagining sleeping with Louise was one thing; facing the reality was quite another. He couldn’t do it. Not after the most sublime experience of his long life. He cursed Dubreis, then Louise. Dubreis probably intended to get Louise to the yacht, but Louise had found the excuse she needed to get him away from Paris and into her milieu. Jasper bowed to the inevitable. “I’d be delighted, Louise.”

***** The small speedboat set out from Juan-les-Pins, passed the other yachts moored there, and headed for the Charlotte, Berthier’s vessel. Svetlana watched through half-closed eyes and dark sunglasses, her senses alert but expecting nothing more than a transport delivering something, probably more of the champagne that flowed so copiously here. So the telepathic touch to her mind came as a surprise. “I’m coming aboard with another bugged phone for you. And Louise is with me.” That was all, and he cut off after her stunned acknowledgment of his contact. Jasper never involved himself in active operations, always kept his distance. What had changed? Dared she hope it was her? No, in that way lay madness. Grateful for Jasper’s message, giving her the opportunity to steel herself for any reaction to his presence, Svetlana leaned over for her bikini top only to find Hugo’s hand over hers. “Leave it. You look beautiful, chérie.” She ignored the slight. To use “chérie” without the prefix “ma” implied possession and lower status. Hugo knew it, too. He owned her, as far as he was concerned. “The boat might hold people who don’t like --” “Fuck them.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

57

He wanted to demonstrate his possession. Well, she was Topaz, and she was nobody’s puppet, so fuck him. But when she tugged at the top, his grip increased. “You know what happens to items that come between you and me.” She sighed. Her cell phone, some of her underwear, and a dress he’d taken a dislike to had all gone overboard in Berthier’s demonstrations of power. She’d kept her laptop firmly closed and shut off. In any case, the Internet would be routed through Berthier’s system, and he could monitor it if he wished, so it was useless as a communication device. She’d thought of contacting Jasper, had actually left a curt email on his server about an appointment to visit “a supplier,” but he hadn’t replied. It was still unread this morning. She’d checked. Now she knew why. Jasper was here. She didn’t need her psi senses to know how close he was. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled, even as Berthier adjusted the lounger she lay on and lifted the angle, so she sat up, ready to greet the newcomers to the ship. Hugo Berthier made her furious. She never allowed herself to be shown off as a trophy, something many models accepted as part of the job, but here she was, displayed, Berthier’s possession just as much as the yacht or the diamond bracelet he’d given her to wear. The tiny but perfect gems flashed in the bright sunlight as she lifted her hand to push a few strands of hair off her face. She was gratified to see her hand was completely steady, but when she lowered it to her side, forcing herself not to cover her breasts, she felt a slight tremble. When Hugo brought her here, to the lower deck instead of the upper deck where she usually sunbathed, she’d wondered why but hadn’t thought too much about it. Now she knew. Like a valued possession, she was on display, where visitors could see her immediately and wonder at Hugo’s power, that he had enough money to buy a supermodel. Fuck him. Fuck them all, she thought savagely. Svetlana was glad of her sunglasses so no one could see the bleak despair in her eyes. Louise was the first to board. Svetlana fully expected the harsh, critical stare Louise favored her with before reverting to her usual bland smile. She smiled back, hating Louise for coming on to Jasper, praying he hadn’t fucked her already. “Hello, Louise.” “Svetlana.” Louise nodded, and Svetlana finally found enough courage to face the second person. In defiance of his usual black, Jasper wore white, but the effect was just as delicious. His collarless, crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows enhanced his muscular strength. His sunglasses were pure black, the only nod to the color he usually wore. Svetlana rechecked her mental defenses and gave him a cool smile. At last Hugo spoke. “Welcome.” He performed speedy introductions, not standing on ceremony. Elaine and Jackie, who occupied the other two loungers on this deck, smiled and

58

Lynne Connolly

waved, both of them sharpening their attention on Jasper. Svetlana felt a slight tingle in the air and knew Elaine was reporting progress to him. “Thank you for your invitation to view the factory, Hugo,” Jasper said coolly. “Paris was getting too hot, and only the tourists are there in August.” Svetlana couldn’t see beyond the dark sunglasses, but she thought Jasper glanced at her, just once. Then his attention returned to her for all to see, and he swept her from head to foot in a publicly assessing gesture. “You should avoid that shade of green, Svetlana. It’s a fallacy that all shades of green suit redheads.” At least he’d given her a reason for her blush. She wore a tiny pair of bikini bottoms in lime green and a pair of sandals in the same color. If she weren’t so on edge, she’d find his criticism funny. A scrap of fabric hardly constituted a major fashion statement. “The outfit was a gift.” From Hugo, she preferred not to add. But Jasper was probably right. His sense of color was impeccable. Jasper lowered his sunglasses, narrowed his eyes, and peered at her over the top. “Your skin is fair, but not fair enough for that shade of green.” The merest glimpse of his gray eyes, and they were gone again, but one peek was enough to show her his cool control. She touched his mind, daring to brush it, and saw only bland indifference, but she felt much more, went deeper than she was used to with him. Had their one night together given her more contact than he thought? “No. I gave that to you voluntarily. Don’t abuse it.” The message came deep down, in a part of her mind she’d thought private. “I would never do that.” He withdrew, his contact merely an indication of what he could do if he wanted to. Her libido seemed beyond her control in Jasper’s presence. She felt the dampness between her thighs, in the too-skimpy bikini bottoms. She’d chosen them earlier as the least revealing, tiring of days wearing nothing more than a string and a tiny triangle of cloth, but they might not serve if she didn’t stop thinking about that night. A touch in her mind, and she knew he’d picked up her emotions. So she opened herself, sent him a memory of her in his arms, how safe she felt, how much she’d enjoyed it. Just as if it had just been another sexual encounter. Two could play at that game, treat it like a casual encounter. Not how much she hurt now, how raw she felt, how cheap, dressed in nothing but a pair of bikini bottoms and some fancy sandals. For a bare instant, he flooded her with warmth and comfort, and she wanted to run across the deck and throw herself at him, something to which, she knew for sure, he wouldn’t respond well. But she wanted to do it anyway. Stupid! She was a professional. What was she thinking? So she smiled sweetly at Hugo and asked him what was for dinner.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

59

“I believe it’s salmon tonight,” he said and bent to kiss her palm, letting his hand brush her breast in passing. Staking his claim, his right to her. He straightened. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, Jasper. We’ll see you later.” Jasper smiled as if he hadn’t just been dismissed. “Of course.” “I’m tired.” Abruptly Louise crossed the deck, towards the stairs. “I’ll go lie down for an hour. I feel sticky.” She lifted her hand to attract the attention of the nearest attendant. “Have my clothes brought to me so I can change.” Her husband’s brows rose a fraction. “The main bedroom is at your disposal, my dear.” She gave him a smile that seemed at least on the surface to be grateful. “Thank you.” She left, followed by the steward carrying her case. Some of the tension left with her but not all. At last, Svetlana could move and she swung her legs over the side of the lounger. “I’d better cover up, or Jasper won’t be able to use me in his September show.” She stood up and shrugged, allowing her breasts to jiggle with the movement, teasing Jasper with her look-but-don’t-touch status. On her feet, she felt more in control. “I’ll be back soon.” “Very well.” Hugo’s eyes remained on her all the way across the deck. “Don’t wear too much. I enjoy seeing you naked.” Svetlana followed Louise into the cooler lower decks. She was relieved to find her own cabin empty. She’d half expected to discover Louise there waiting for her, but Louise must have passed on to the larger room beyond, to Hugo’s cabin.

60

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Nine Svetlana found a long sleeved blouse and changed out of the hateful green bikini bottoms for red ones, her mind numbly going over the horror she’d seen, deep in Jasper’s eyes. The blouse was see-through but decorated with large flowers, which served to disguise her a little. She, who’d appeared half-naked in front of the world’s press and been proud to display her body, now felt embarrassed and angry at the way Hugo showed her off like a trophy. And now Jasper thought she was a whore, even though he’d been her pimp. A tap sounded gently on her door, and she called “Come in,” before wondering who it could be. It wasn’t Hugo, and it wasn’t a steward. It wasn’t even Virgilio. It was Jasper. He’d taken off his sunglasses and hers lay on the small table next to the door. They locked eyes, guarded but waiting. She really wanted to fling herself at him, but his face was cold and his mind blocked to her. “Here.” He put a cell phone on the table, his voice flat and expressionless. “And this.” From his pocket, he took out another pair of sunglasses and a small gold watch. “Bugs in all of these. Don’t ever be without one again.” Familiar territory. Not what lay between them, but her job. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry that he ignored the question pulsing between them. Why ? “Hugo threw the last phone overboard when I didn’t attend to him quickly enough. He likes to be the center of his mistress’s attention.” Jasper winced. She saw it, even though he tried to cover it up by adjusting the way the watch lay on the table. She was savagely glad she wasn’t the only one suffering here. He met her eyes without flinching. “Oui.” He abruptly switched to English. “Svetlana, I’m sorry.” She put up her chin. “For what? Aren’t I doing a good enough job?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

61

“Better than good. But I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” She shrugged. “I was the best you had available.” He shoved his hands in his pockets in an un-Jasper-like gesture. “I should have found someone else for the job. You don’t like this. However deep you push your distaste, I can sense it.” Too late. She couldn’t forget his cold stare as he lay in the bath watching her dress. She wasn’t done with him yet. “So why did you order me to do it?” His silver eyes flashed with anger. “I didn’t order. I asked. I never order agents to do this kind of thing.” Her mouth twisted. “What? Sleep with the enemy?” He jerked his head up, warning her not to say too much, but she laughed bitterly. “You think I don’t monitor all the time to make sure I’m not being overheard? I have the measure of this yacht; I’m monitoring the people on it all the time. Louise is next door, really asleep, and everyone else in on deck. There’s no one to hear us, Jasper. And no one to see us, now I’ve taken out the little camera in the TV. I let it work sometimes, so Hugo can watch.” She couldn’t hide the bitterness in her tone. “He likes to watch. Since Virgilio came on board, the cameras have developed an intermittent fault.” “I’m glad to hear you haven’t lost your touch.” It was a measure of his jitters that he’d considered for one minute that she’d slipped that much. When she tried to slip deep into his mind, she found an impregnable barrier, the one he held against all the world. The one he’d used against her until that night at his Paris apartment. She switched to business, knowing she could do nothing else when he was in this mood. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. His anger had touched her, deep inside and if he let it loose, hers would have emerged to match it. “I’ve found nothing so far. Hugo has a wellorganized mind, which tells me someone has taught him to keep his secrets hidden. I can access his wants and his greed but not much about his business dealings, legitimate or otherwise. His barriers are strong, and I sensed another’s presence there, so someone has helped him to strengthen them. But I don’t know who, and I don’t yet know what is behind them.” She didn’t tell him that she’d spent three days fighting through her numbness when she’d first arrived, trying to keep her mind on the job, unable to concentrate for long enough to get a fix on Hugo’s mind. He’d sent her here, so he didn’t deserve to know that. Jasper ignored her report. “Has he hurt you?” She blinked. “What?” She was so not expecting that question, bitten out as if he didn’t want to ask it. “No.” Jasper took a few paces across the cabin and turned to face her again, his eyes cloudy with concern and glinting with the anger he seemed unable to control. “You’re more on edge than I’ve ever known you. This cabin is small. Is that it? I know you spent some time in Russia in captivity. It’s like a prison here?”

62

Lynne Connolly

Her mouth twisted. Unfair of him to bring that up. “The whole fucking yacht is a prison. I can’t leave without Hugo’s permission, and he tries to control me all the time. I don’t like that; you know I don’t.” She breathed deeply, forcing down the panic rising within her. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve known worse.” Much worse. “You’re used to handling that. Svetlana, your cool, icy act may fool others, but it doesn’t fool me. You’re tenser than I’ve ever known you.” She turned on him, unable to quell her fury, her eyes sparking fire. “Is that any wonder? You show me the best, the” -- she broke off, aware of letting too much slip -- “then you tell me that’s all I’m getting. Like a reward for good behavior.” But if she was hurting, she’d make sure he would, too. “You used this assignment as an excuse for your fear of commitment, didn’t you?” His eyes darkened, with a dangerous combination of lust and anger. “I’ll show you how afraid I am of commitment!” He took the two strides that separated them and dragged her into his arms. His mouth came down on hers in a punishing kiss, forcing her lips apart, gone almost as soon as he’d started. “Does that feel like someone afraid of commitment?” He shook her. “Well, does it?” Svetlana dropped her head into the curve of his shoulder, allowing his shirt to soak up her sudden tears. His proximity was too much. The feel of his hard body against hers, the heat radiating off him, so familiar, so wanted, drove her over the edge. “How would I know?” Having lost her inconvenient leakage, she lifted her head. “That felt like a man who doesn’t want to admit his feelings, a man willing to use sex to avoid uncomfortable truths.” She knew she was telling the truth when she gazed into his stony eyes. None of the suave sophisticate remained, only the man who had fought and won many battles against vicious enemies, the warrior under the smooth exterior. He stared down at her, his mouth set grimly, lines of strain marking the corners. “Until now, I’ve been too careful to let anyone come this close. But you, Svetlana, you take all my good intentions away.” “What?” But she could say no more because his mouth covered hers, pushing it open. Jasper was everything Hugo wasn’t. Virile and passionate. He gave her heat, desire, and raw need. She smelled him, she tasted him and took him in, as if her body was taking the nourishment it cried out for. He devoured her mouth, taking without asking, and at last he opened his mind to her. At last she read him, his barriers burned away in the heat of their passion. He was suffering, too. One night was supposed to be all there could ever be for them, but it had only sharpened his desire, not quenched it. Hers too. She wanted him more than ever and hated herself for wanting what she couldn’t have. His tongue pushed into her mouth, and he opened his mouth wide against hers, sucking her tongue in to share his taste, his need.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

63

She hardly noticed when her blouse fell to the floor, and her bikini bottoms didn’t last much longer. He tore them off her. Completely in the moment, taken by his raging need for her, Svetlana needed him badly. Right now. Lifting her legs, she hooked them around his waist, and came into contact with his naked cock. When had he unzipped? But he was there, hard, hot and long. Ready for her. She was wet, soaking for him. He only had to look at her and she juiced. She moved down, and he slid inside. Just like that. No resistance. He tore his mouth away from hers, his lips reddened from their kiss. “God, this is madness!” “Maybe. But oh, Jasper, I need this!” Lifting her, he touched his lips to her forehead and pushed her down hard over his cock. Right down to the base. He exhaled in a long, luxurious sigh. “I should never have sent you here. This is driving me fucking insane.” “Me too.” She swallowed her tears of anger and shame and shifted on him, hearing his gasp and glorying in it. “Jasper, tell me what this is.” “Lust.” He sounded as if he knew for sure. She was glad one of them did, but she wasn’t at all sure that the great Jasper Lebec actually did have the answer this time. “It’s lust, that’s all. We just have to ride it out.” She laughed softly, the first time she’d laughed properly since she’d stepped on this God-awful boat. “Then I’ll ride you, cowboy,” she whispered, sliding her lips next to his ear, taking delicate laps and nips at his lobe. With a heartfelt groan, Jasper leaned against the wall behind him and moved. Svetlana sighed in sheer relief and bit her lower lip. Jasper leaned forward and captured it between his own, caressing it with his tongue, licking and nibbling before kissing her again, his tongue plunging deep, taking possession of her. Lust. Yeah, right. His touch, his hungry caresses over her body, as if he couldn’t touch her enough, all spoke of love, not lust. Or perhaps that was just what she wanted it to be. Perhaps, for Jasper, it was lust. But not for her. His body felt like no one else’s, her body called for his and recognized it when he was inside her. As it was now. Her body impacted against the door with a series of hard thumps. Svetlana extended her senses, but she couldn’t detect anyone close by except the slumbering Louise in the next cabin. Svetlana’s mind was a storm of emotion, joining with her body as he took her without mercy. “I’ll shaft you like this until we’ve had enough. Jesus, Svetlana, I will never get enough of you. What do you do to me?” Anger rose in furious waves to combine with his hard, violent strokes. He gave her no gentleness, no tenderness, no quarter. “You are mine, you hear me? You do as I say, not because I’m your boss, but because I’m Jasper Lebec!” “Yes, Jasper. Oh God!”

64

Lynne Connolly

Incapable of thought any longer, she could only be glad no one came downstairs because they would have heard Jasper pounding hard into her, piercing her to her very core, the center she’d kept to herself for so long, where her worst secrets lay hidden, safely locked away. Until Jasper tore away every barrier, every block she had erected to reveal her, aching and raw for him. Only for him. He bent to take one of her nipples into his mouth, nipping to make her flinch, then soothing with his tongue before sucking hard, tasting her deeply. Watching that dark head, his mouth so absorbed in her body, she knew it was more than lust for him as well. But would he ever admit it? “Svetlana…” His whisper, close to her nipple, drove her over the edge, and she caught her breath on a cry. Quiet, they had to be quiet. So she didn’t so much explode as implode, all her emotions rising to a peak of fulfillment, concentrating on her body as never before. She felt every contraction around him, her pussy deliciously clenching and releasing, her rhythmic holds persuading, gripping. He opened his mouth wide against her shoulder, sucking and nipping her sensitive flesh. Marking her as his. With a feral growl, he lifted his head to confront her. “You will not fuck him, you hear me?” “No!” He shoved his face up against hers. His eyes were pure silver now. “No, Jasper!” he growled. “Say it!” “No -- No, Jasper!” For her reward, he thrust once more, deep and hard, and she felt him pulse from base to tip before his sperm jetted forth into her wet center. Hot pulsations gave way to aftershocks, flutters, and waves. It was natural for him to hold her and for her to nestle in, she who had never nestled in her life, never held onto a lover for longer than she had to. He moved a strand of hair away from her mouth and, turning his head, captured her lips in a deep kiss. His tongue moved lazily into her, then back, and although he finished the kiss, he didn’t take his mouth away from hers. “That,” he said, his voice a deep rumble, “should not have happened. What were we thinking?” “Madness,” she agreed. “Though nobody heard us.” “We’ve been away so long, they might guess.” She felt his reluctance when he pulled away, leaving her body. Already she wanted him back. “I’ll say I was giving you fashion advice, because I couldn’t bear that outfit you had on when I arrived.” He lifted a sardonic brow. “Although you don’t need my advice. You always look immaculate.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

65

She tried to pull away, but he kept his arm around her. His eyes held only tenderness now. No one from the atelier, or the Department, would recognize the hard-jawed, fearsomely orderly Jasper Lebec in this tired and tousled man. She hardly recognized him herself. “Not now.” “Now more than ever.” He drew her close for another kiss. “Whatever made me wear white today?” “Your perfect fashion sense?” He chuckled and stroked his forefinger down the upper slope of her breast to circle her nipple. “We can’t linger, though I’d like to. I want to do it again. Already. But they’ll get suspicious and come to see what we’re doing. I’ll do something outrageous with your wardrobe, and we’ll talk.” He pulled up his underwear and pants while she headed for the bathroom. A swift shape-shift after her shower took care of the mark on her shoulder, although she badly wanted to keep it, her state of near-nudity on the yacht would get it noticed. Ten minutes later, Jasper had collected a selection of scarves, and she’d brought him up to speed with events on the yacht while he worked. Neither referred to the swift, deep fucking they’d shared such a short time before, or they might end up on that narrow bunk. He knew it; so did she. Jasper had erected all his barriers once more, and apart from extra creasing on his linen slacks, he was little the worse for wear. Only looking closer would anyone see the slightly swollen, reddened lips and the gleam in the usually dispassionate eyes. Already Svetlana missed him. “Did you mean it?” she asked, as much to provoke a response as anything else. “Mean what?” He drew a scarf through his hands and examined her through narrowed eyes. “You said not to fuck him.” He stilled completely. “You don’t want to. You feel besmirched even going to him. Don’t deny it. I felt it in you. So you are not to do it.” She bit her lip. It wasn’t that. She’d felt the possessive instincts that drove him to make his demands, and it had nothing to do with his consideration for her and everything to do with his instinctive need to hold her close and own her. She was his. But she also knew that if she pushed the matter, he’d close down completely. He left part of himself opened to her. Not much, not very deep, but more than he gave anyone else. To keep that she had to be patient and let him come to terms with what he’d revealed just now. He tied a long red scarf around her hips and pulled the drapes down to cover her red bikini bottoms. “Sexy.” She knew from his tone he didn’t mean her but the way the fabric

66

Lynne Connolly

draped. “So tell me what you’ve discovered about Hugo.” He glanced at her, and she saw nothing but cool calculation in his eyes and the face Jasper presented to the world. “He has trouble getting it up.” Jasper’s hands, busy knotting another scarf around her breasts paused for an infinitesimal second. “I’ve worked on that weakness, and he’s having real trouble now though he pretends not to care. I know he does. The drugs make him sick. But he loves to watch. He’s had everybody on this ship in the main stateroom at one time or another performing for him, even the staff.” “You?” “He sits and fondles me, like I’m his pet. Ouch!” That as Jasper pulled a scarf a fraction too tight, pinching her nipples painfully. “Sorry. You’re nobody’s pet, Svetlana.” “You sent me on this assignment.” He deserved that. He deserved to know. “We rarely wear anything more than what you saw when you came aboard. But I stopped the topless dinners by telling him it was vulgar and becoming a little boring. I let him keep them for special occasions, so expect one to come your way if you stay here.” She smiled grimly. “There’s a middle-class boy under all that fashionable veneer. He has guilt in a big way but more than that, a horror of vulgarity. Tell him it’s cheap, and he’ll drop it like it doesn’t exist for him any more.” “Useful,” Jasper commented, picking up a large amber sarong. He tied it to drift from her breasts in a long tail, ending just above her knees. He’d picked solid colors in shades of yellow, orange, and deep crimson. “For once,” he said, “you look like the firebird of legend. I think I’ll do something similar for the prêt-à-porter collection.” She frowned at him. “I thought that was settled.” He flicked the old collection away with a careless gesture that was all Lebec. “I’m redesigning it. It wasn’t good enough.” Catching up a silk scarf in deep crimson, he wrapped her hair in it, knotted twice and stood back. Now he looked like the Jasper Lebec she knew from the atelier, concentration personified, but all his attention impersonal. All he needed was Madame Morel to complete the picture. Except for a tender glint in his eyes, one she knew she’d always see in him now, whether it was there or not. “We should go up now. We’ve been gone a good half hour. They’d never believe I could design something so fast, so we’ve won some time back.” She made for the door, but he touched her elbow to stop her. “One more thing, Svetlana. We’re going to the factory tomorrow. I think this is the one. I’ve accessed what I can of the plan and structure, but it’s difficult to get hold of the information. Being the center of the perfume business, it’s under high security. It certainly has the facilities to manufacture Solution X.” He frowned. “Keep your shields up and don’t take any chances. After we’ve been there, I want you out of here. Gone. Is that clear?” “Do I report to you afterward?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

67

He paused, biting his lower lip in a way that made her long to kiss it. “Yes. I’ll send word where. If you don’t hear otherwise, go home to Paris. I’ll be in touch. Tonight, try to find out more about Berthier. Explore his mind and discover just how he managed to make such sophisticated blocking mechanisms. If he’s a Sorcerer, we need to know.” “Jasper?” Uncertainly, she reached out to him, but he stepped back. Dressing her gave him a chance to regain his shields, become the Jasper Lebec the world knew. “Svetlana, don’t.” The knock on the door sounded so loud she nearly leaped into his arms in shock. And he held them out to her instinctively, but the door opened before she could act on their instincts. “There you are!” said Louise brightly. She stopped, obviously not seeing what she expected to see. She probably expected to see Jasper naked with her. Her smile broadened. “Why, you sly dog, Jasper. Is this a new creation you planned to surprise us with?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “I love it! Of course it needs someone tall and slender like Topaz -- or like me,” she added, running her hands down her now barely clad and highly toned body. “But I’ll be first in line for this creation. So…seductive!” Svetlana looked down her nose at the woman, who clearly wanted more than her outfit. But as Hugo’s pet, she was in no position to warn his wife off Jasper, even though she wanted to claw the bitch’s eyes out of her skull.

68

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Ten Jasper and Louise met the party from the ship when they came ashore the next morning, and they took a leisurely, sociable lunch at a restaurant with a beautiful view of the sea. Jasper sat well away from Svetlana, but he felt her presence with every shift of her body, every word she spoke. Savagely, he locked down his thoughts. Not until he’d made absolutely sure he'd put all his emotions away behind the strongest barriers he could construct did he attempt to contact her. “Jasper, about last night --”

“Don’t give me details. Did you achieve the objective ?”

“Yes and no. Someone has definitely helped him build his barriers. There’s a sense of

someone else in his mind.” “We need to find out who has helped the bastard.” He picked up his wine glass and stroked the condensation beading on the outside, cooling his rampant emotions as well as his hands. After he’d made love to Svetlana, she’d probably slept with Hugo, despite what he’d said to her, his orders not to. If she hadn’t done it, that would have broken her cover. The thought of them sleeping together hurt so much, the pain didn’t have a beginning or an end. It just was. Svetlana Yevchenko had his heart. One single throb in his chest marked the moment of full recognition. He loved her. If she loved him, their fate was already upon them and there was nothing they could do to avoid it, so they might as well enjoy the time they had left. He didn’t intend to hide from his fate any more. If Svetlana wanted him, she would have him. And he would have her. Fuck the consequences.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

69

But they still needed to find out where the facility was situated. Until they’d done that, he couldn’t get her off that godforsaken yacht. He prayed that they found the laboratory in their expedition today. Before he lost his mind imagining Svetlana with Hugo Berthier. “Tell us about your new prêt-à-porter designs, Jasper,” Louise asked him brightly. “Only my atelier knows that. No one else before the show.” He swallowed his emotions down with a healthy mouthful of white wine. “Louise, you needn’t worry you’ll be out of date. My couture line is separate to the prêt-à-porter, designed for another audience and always avant-garde.” He patted her hand. “You’ll forever be a la mode.” She turned her hand so it was palm-up and grasped his. “Thank you, Jasper.” He would feel sorry for her, but last night had ended any sympathy he might have had toward her. Unwilling to spend the night in a yacht full of guests, Louise had insisted that Jasper take her ashore to a hotel. Not surprisingly, she spent the rest of the evening trying to seduce him. Somebody should have told her that desperate wasn’t sexy. He still wasn’t sure if she wanted him for his fashion house or for his own sweet self, but she wasn’t getting either. After he’d extricated himself from her clutches, she’d sent for Dubreis, but he’d returned to the yacht at dawn after a few brief words with Jasper to plan the campaign for the next day. Jasper let his hand remain in hers, planning to extricate it as soon as possible. “You’re a fashion setter, not a follower, Louise. I’m flattered you favor my house with your custom.” But he didn’t need her. He had twenty others just like her. And he certainly didn’t need to sleep with her to ensure her custom. But last night’s incident did give him an inkling of what Svetlana was going through. Owned by someone else, used by him, made to do what he wanted, not because she wanted to but for the greater good. Her motives were definitely more honorable, but it didn’t make her personal distaste, so obvious to him yesterday, any easier for either of them to bear. Before she closed him out, he’d felt her pain and her disgust with her own body. She shouldn’t ever feel like that. But it wasn’t guilt that racked him now. It was desire. He glanced up and caught Svetlana’s gaze. It flickered over him and was gone, but that one second of intimate contact branded him with fire. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. Shit, he’d gripped Louise’s hand, and she was gripping his back. All last night’s work gone to waste. Now she’d think he was interested after all and start her seduction all over again. Fuck. “Ah, the cars.” Relieved, he got to his feet, losing Louise’s hand in the process and headed for the limousine that had drawn up to the curb. Another slid up behind it, sleek, black Mercedes limousines with blacked-out windows. Jasper eyed them in disgust. Way to stand out, even in this resort of expensive cars and more expensive owners. Two different ones would have been better, less obvious. They were going to the factory in a bloody convoy. As they stepped into the vehicles, a few flashbulbs popped. In the middle of the day in high season in the French Riviera, the fucking paparazzi used flashbulbs.

70

Lynne Connolly

*****

Half an hour later, Jasper wondered how such beautiful countryside could depress him so much. Sandwiched between the outer door and Louise, her hand possessively on his knee, he wanted nothing so much as to stop the car, step out into the lush French countryside, and just walk. They passed vineyards he wanted to explore. Maybe take Svetlana and visit the owner, taste a few bottles, order a few cases, spend a long, leisurely lunch at a country inn, feeding each other morsels, sharing a bottle of fine red wine. A man could dream. Not here. Or rather, not in this company. He felt hunted, and it wasn’t his imagination. Louise stayed close. Her couture Lebec dress was a little too elaborate for the occasion, especially with the matching jacket, but she looked cool in the air-conditioned limo. Outside the sun blazed down. Everyone else wore light summer clothes more appropriate to the occasion, and Jasper’s jacket was unlined linen. He only carried it out of habit. Except that Hugo also carried a jacket. Interesting. “Nearly there,” Berthier remarked. Jasper began to construct his web. Every department head had the ability to construct a mental web, connect the agents involved with each other to give the information out. Their own private Internet and a way of recalling what they needed to after the operation. Berthier beamed at him. “You’re very privileged to visit this facility, Jasper. We must only go where they give us permission and we can’t wander off. The security in the perfume factories is very high. Only we’ll go there; I have arranged a country lunch for the people in the other car.” Shit, Dubreis and Elaine were in that car. He could have used their input. “After our visit, we’ll all go to Grasse and visit the showroom. They’re expecting us.”

Merde. That probably meant Berthier had contacted the press, which meant more delays before Jasper could process the information and get a takedown team in place. The car drew up outside a gated complex. The factory, a nondescript building, was surrounded by a double fenced area, marked by several guarded pass areas. Jasper counted three. “Check, three. I can’t sense any more.” That from Svetlana. “Try to find the level of security. Svetlana, concentrate on the setup. Scan for all

known security levels. If we need to take this place down, I want to do it as cleanly as we can, with minimum loss of life. There will probably be a jamming device, designed to prevent telepathic communication. We’ll know soon enough. Try to assess staffing levels and locate the central computer area, if there is one. When we come back, we need to target that to get the hard drives. Turn off the bug in your phone and leave your sunglasses in the car. They’ll be scanning for electronic devices.” The bug in her sunglasses wouldn’t work when she wasn’t wearing them. At least she didn’t have the gold watch strapped to her wrist. That was always on. They’d have had to destroy it, and the watch was a good one.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

71

“Sure thing.” Svetlana sounded her usual cool self, for which he was thankful. Jasper kept his emotions locked down. They exited the car at the request of the two security guards and walked through while the guards scanned the vehicle in which they’d arrived. Berthier shrugged in a “what can you do” way and added, “I gave orders for every vehicle to be scanned. After all, anyone could have set a bug in the car before it arrived to pick us up.” Jasper smiled to show him he understood, glad he’d ordered Svetlana to switch everything off. “I’m keeping fairly strict security myself. There are pirates everywhere.” Berthier’s thick brows winged skyward. “Absolutely. I have several layers of security. The laboratory where most of the perfumes are constructed is at the center of the building and surrounded by secure areas, but still sometimes formulas escape.” “And collections are leaked.” Jasper already knew the fanatical secretiveness of the main perfumiers rivaled the couture houses for sheer paranoia, and this facility demonstrated that in spades. Too much money was involved for them to take chances with security. A perfect place to conceal illegal drugs. They walked through the second checkpoint, and Berthier led the way toward the main building. Obviously they wouldn’t get back in the cars. But the entrance wasn’t far away, and he saw some people standing outside the main doors in the blazing sunshine. Jasper slowed his steps a little. Put them off guard, overheat them, and gain an edge. Everything he did in these situations was calculated towards the ultimate end. “Our country relies on these so-called frivolous industries.” “Indeed. Wine, perfume, fashion. The things that make living worthwhile.” There was a lot in what Berthier said, but Jasper could think of one activity that didn’t take a great deal of expense or elaborate preparation. Unbidden, a vision of Svetlana coming apart in his arms, head thrown back, hair blazing a trail down her naked back, flashed through his mind and instantly he heated up. He pushed the vision away. Not here, not now. Inappropriate and unprofessional, he told himself, but the sight brought back all his yearning for her. Jasper wore linen treated to reduce creases, a pair of black pants, a white collarless shirt, and he carried one of his signature mandarin-collared jackets. And a pair of current shoes, breathable sneakers from a hot European maker, New Rock. Much more suited to the hot early August day than anything he saw on the people he approached. Three of them, two men and a woman, wore suits made of some artificial fabric, the fibers gleaming under the hot sun. Polyester probably. A fabric that didn’t breathe. They must be very uncomfortable. The one at the front wore a dark business suit of something more expensive, because the fabric was dull under the sun, but his dark skin gleamed with sweat, even at this distance. “I hope you don’t mind me sending you ashore last night,” Berthier said casually. Repressing an impulse to hit him, Jasper forced a smile. “Not at all. Louise needed to get off the yacht, she said. Too claustrophobic.”

72

Lynne Connolly

Berthier snorted. “Couldn’t she think of a better excuse than that? How did you find her?” Berthier assumed they’d had sex, then. And he didn’t care. If anyone touched Jasper’s woman, he’d kill them. But someone had touched her, and it was the man strolling by his side. Jasper suppressed his fury, reminding himself what was at stake here. Lives. But it didn’t help much. He still wanted to kill Berthier. Instead, he shrugged. “Louise is interesting.” “Yes, she has some appealing ideas. It’s one of the reasons I keep her.” That and all the money she owned. For all Berthier’s old-world aristocratic air, the real bank in this relationship was Louise and her money from the new world. Jasper had no doubt Louise retained control over the factories and shops in the Berthier empire. She’d even tried to involve herself in the House of Lebec when Jasper had awarded the creation of his signature perfume to the Berthier business, giving him “advice” about his new accessory line, but he’d stopped that cold. Because he owned the House of Lebec. Lock, stock, and atelier. He probed Berthier’s mind, finding the usual barrier, but the forefront was filled with a mood of easy relaxation. He really didn’t mind another man fucking his wife. “Fair exchange then,” Jasper said, forcing his fury back to bland acceptance. Berthier smiled at him, dark eyes gleaming. “I’m glad you understand. I know you’re a man of the world.” When they reached the small group before the door, Jasper was gratified to see the sweat running in rivulets down their faces. It gave him some satisfaction for the hellacious day he was having. He knew it was petty, but he didn’t care right at this moment. He’d take petty over vindictive any day. The man in the expensive wool suit stepped forward at Berthier’s abrupt gesture and held out his hand. Jasper took it, briefly. “We’re delighted to have you here, Monsieur Lebec,” he said, his voice as smooth as butter. “If I may introduce myself? I’m Roland Tambala, the manager of this facility. We have unbent our usual security policies in your honor.” Jasper lifted a brow. “The security seems rigid enough to me.” Berthier laughed and exchanged a glance with Tambala who explained. “Usually, we invite no one into the factories. No one. They are out of bounds to visitors. But you’re a very special visitor, Jasper. You’ve seen fit to trust us with your very first signature perfume, so the least we can do is show you our work and the man entrusted with the creation of Topaz Delirium.” He felt Svetlana’s interest pique when Tambala mentioned her name, and he felt a wry smile, but he stopped it showing. “Just like a woman.” “Hey, it’s my name, and I made it. I just want to make sure it’s being used properly.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

73

He nearly laughed, feeling her presence lighten his burden. She could always do that for him, show him the lighter side of any situation. “This Tambala. He has a distinct African accent, but my ear isn’t good enough to detect the region.” “Central Africa. Maybe Mali” was her instant reply. “We’ll look into it. It’s not beyond reason that there are Corporation contacts there.” “Some would call you paranoid.” “Some would say I’m meticulous.” He felt her chuckle, but she showed no sign of it on the outside. After shaking the hands -- barely touching since they were covered in sweat -- of the other officials waiting to greet him, they passed inside, and Jasper stifled a gasp. The interior of the factory was kept freezing cold. Now he knew why the officials were dressed for a cooler climate. Svetlana wore a light silk shift dress to just above the knee, sleeveless and thin, one that looked good but wouldn’t protect her from this chill. He swung his jacket off his shoulder, intending to offer it to her. “No, don’t. It looks too particular, and I’m supposed to be with Hugo. I’ll manage.” But Hugo didn’t offer her his jacket. “This is even colder than a hotel in Florida,” he managed, shrugging into the jacket he was suddenly glad to have. “We have to keep it cold for the chemicals,” Tambala told him. “If this discommodes you, I’m sure we can find something for you to wear during your visit.” Jasper waved him off. “I’m fine.” Behind him, the women murmured the same assurances, and then Jasper remembered Louise had brought a jacket. She must have known this would happen, but she hadn’t warned anyone, as she could have done. A friendly “Bring a jacket; the factory is kept cold” would have helped Svetlana, who wore a light summer dress. She must be freezing. “It’s not that bad,” Svetlana said, more amused than annoyed by Louise’s crude tactics, but once she let him into her mind, he felt the chill in her body. “If you suffer, Louise will, too. I promise.” Firebirds hated the cold. “Forget it.” They walked through to the main factory area. A huge internal space greeted them, with huge gleaming copper vats making the occasional hissing sound. “The distillery,” M. Tambala said, his fruity voice proud. “We take the raw ingredients and turn them into the finest, purest essence. It takes so many roses to make one ounce of rose otto that many manufacturers use geraniums to eke the mixture out. We do this in some cases, but our purest distillation is made of only the finest roses.” He moved on, and despite his concerns, Jasper was fascinated. He wished he had more time to spare here, fully aware that a visit to a factory like this, even for a man with his influence, was a rare occurrence.

74

Lynne Connolly

M. Tambala was undoubtedly happy in his work. He strolled through the room, nodding to the white-coated, white-hatted staff. “Please keep to the yellow lines, ladies and gentlemen. Do not stray, or you might corrupt the precious mixtures.” He continued walking, keeping close watch on the visitors. His staff moved among them, ostensibly as hosts but more like guards, preventing covert photography, or any straying from the yellow lines on the floor that marked their passage. Even though two of the visitors owned the factory. “We extract the precious essences using several methods. Solvent extraction, supercritical carbon dioxide extraction, or steam distillation are the most usual methods, but we have developed special techniques to extract the essences from more elusive plants. Thus we endowed Topaz Delirium with some extremely rare ingredients, unavailable from anyone else at the price we can offer.” Jasper wondered about that but it wasn’t worth questioning now. The price was set, the budget agreed, and he was fully aware that what he was really buying was the “nose,” the man or woman with an olfactory sense acute and trained enough to create the perfect perfume. He looked forward to meeting the nose, but for now, he had work to do. He let Tambala’s deep voice roll over him while he spread his senses, feeling for anything unusual. The security was thorough. If he stepped more than a pace outside the yellow lines, an alarm would sound, and the visitor’s badge held, as he’d been almost sure it would, a small bug. Easy enough for a Talent to overcome but it would be noticed, and it wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that Hugo Berthier would link the failure of the tracker units here and the faults on the cameras in the yacht. “Nothing else.” He’d given Svetlana the job of sensing security aimed at Talents, but from a brief scan, he couldn’t sense anything specific. He concentrated on the staff, looking for inroads, gaps, any access to their inner minds. Breaking through to a person’s inner thoughts hurt them. They’d know of any obvious efforts, but there could sometimes be gaps, back doors, little chinks in the protective barriers. He’d gone through the first two by the time they reached the end of the distillery and passed onto the maze of hallways and offices beyond. No central office complex with chicken-run cubicles here. Everyone had his or her own office, or shared with one or two other people. Although that made for small offices, Jasper liked the arrangement. Impossible for his work, but it probably helped with the security. He sensed bugs everywhere, the highpitched buzz irritating his eardrums, but very few people could detect that level of sound. From the expression on Svetlana’s face, he guessed she could, too. Her mouth tightened into a forced smile, the little lines at the corners showed the strain she felt. Immediately he entered her mind, surrounded her with warmth before he remembered how fucking stupid that would be. Now he was there, it would be even more stupid to back out fast. She’d surely notice then.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

75

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I thought I sensed something, just for a minute, but it’s gone now.” “This place is full of bugs of the electronic kind.” She pursed her lips, which only made him want to kiss them, but he was far too clever to do that. Or stupid. Or something. “That might explain it, but I thought I got an echo of the word Cephalox. Nobody should know that word.” “Unless they know what the stuff is,” he finished for her. “Stay on it.” “Sure thing.” He broke the contact before he did something more stupid, like take the step that separated them and hold her hand, just for the skin-to-skin contact. While meeting the nose, the man who had the perfect sense of smell who sampled Topaz Delirium, was fascinating, it also proved a frustrating exercise. Because despite scanning constantly, nowhere in the whole place did Jasper detect anything. The electronic bugs made the work more difficult. He caught Svetlana’s frustration and grimaced at her in sympathy. “Anything wrong?” Berthier actually seemed concerned, but Jasper couldn’t sense any real concern inside him. “Not really. I think my nose is exhausted. I’m smelling strange things now, things I know can’t possibly be here.” Berthier chuckled, the bastard. “That often happens after a concentration of scents.” He checked his watch. “I ordered dinner to be held for us so we’re in no hurry. Are you fit for the visit to the showroom? They’ll be disappointed if we don’t show, but they’ll have to put up with it if we decide to return to the yacht.” Jasper pasted an expression of unconcern on to his face. “No, I’m fine. I’ll face the press.” Berthier’s double take was good to see. Nice to see the suave Berthier taken by surprise for once. “Did someone tell you about the press?” “Nobody had to. Years of managing the media gives you a second sense.” “I’ve never found that.”

Because you’re too self-centered to look outside yourself and into someone else’s head. What Hugo Berthier wanted, Hugo Berthier got. And when he’d run through his own money in a series of bad investments and bad flower harvests, he’d married Louise to bail him out. A good match, because she came a close second to her husband in the self-centered stakes.

76

Lynne Connolly

Becoming Talents would kill them. Not that they’d ever get the chance. Talents shared minds on a daily basis. Jasper had to hope neither of the Berthiers ever met a shape-shifter or a vampire willing to convert them. It didn’t bear thinking about. A tingle alerted him, stinging his mind like an insect. An anomaly in the web of bugs and safeguards. A place where the bugs were increased, directly above his head. “Svetlana !” “I feel it. That must be where it is.” Jasper put out all his senses at full strength, avoiding the bugs instead of stunning them. And he felt it. Something faint, but a response to his probe. “That’s it. I’m in contact with a

Talent, just barely. A Talent close to death. There’s a facility up there. An experimental unit and a laboratory.” “God, I hate this! Not being able to go and get him.” So did he. Walking away from a Talent so obviously damaged and in trouble went against all Jasper’s instincts, but if he did anything now, they could take him down and the Talent would still die. Svetlana too. He frowned and walked a little faster, ignoring the staff waiting to see the great Maitre Lebec. Two minutes, he needed two minutes. He drew the cold air into his lungs, deliberately forcing himself to calm down. Berthier hung behind to talk to Tambala, but Jasper headed for the exit door after thanking everyone for the visit. The relief when they walked back through the checkpoints and into the airconditioned limousines was extreme, filling Jasper with what felt like fresh air. The tension in his temples eased. That was the reason he felt so tense and violent in that fucking factory before he’d contacted the Talent. The electronics didn’t suit him. It must be killing the Talents kept prisoner in that hidden facility at the top of the building. If Solution X didn’t get them, the electronics would. Impotent fury surged through him, searing him like a bush fire. If a facility like that ever got hold of Svetlana he would rampage through it like a firestorm. For the first time he was glad of Louise’s presence next to him, holding the ground between himself and Svetlana. Realization hit him in a blinding wave of heat. He’d made a terrible mistake, probably the worst of his career. Of his life. What a complete fucking idiot he was. Because he loved her. If Svetlana loved him, as he suspected, their fate was already set and nothing he could do would stop it. Remaining apart was a waste of time; it would happen anyway. He shouldn’t have sent her to Berthier, should have kept her. Their time was limited now, and they needed to use it wisely. Now he’d take what was his. Jasper had to behave in a charming way to Louise, who seemed determined to monopolize his attention, leaving Svetlana in the cold. Until she brought Svetlana into the conversation. “What was it like being Jasper’s bride?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

77

Fuck. Now he had an image of Svetlana, dressed not in the outrageous gown she’d worn at the couture show but in something cool and elegant, flattering her curves without forcing them on the observer and him in a tuxedo, waiting for her in front of an altar. Something that might never happen but something he was honest enough to admit that he wanted. Very much. So much, it scared him. Svetlana smiled as if Louise made some kind of joke. “The public enjoyed it. It amused Jasper to let the press think there was a connection between us, more than a professional one.” “But Hugo killed that when he took you to lunch and brought you onto the yacht.” “Yes, he did. But you don’t have to worry, Louise.” “Oh, I know I don’t, my dear. Jasper won’t marry.” Louise folded her hands in her lap in a parody of demure behavior. The way she’d come on to Jasper last night was anything but demure, and he’d only rid himself of her by making vague promises and flirtations. He had to get away from this operation before he went completely insane. Was he mad? So close to ruining the whole setup, and if he didn’t get hold of the factory making Solution X and close it down, Berthier would put it on the black market and make a killing. Literally. That was what mattered. Not falling deeply in love with Svetlana Yevchenko.

78

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Eleven Outside the Berthier showroom, a small gaggle of media people waited. Topaz went into action. Hugo waited for her, an assured smile on his face. He reached out for her, so she smiled coolly at him and touched his hand with hers, but instead of taking it and allowing him to escort her inside, she took a couple of steps to stand next to Jasper, who knew better than to claim her in any way. Svetlana might accept Hugo’s proprietary air; Topaz did not. “Are you and Topaz an item, M. Lebec?” someone called out. Svetlana glanced at Jasper and smiled. He smiled back and turned to the press. “We have a good business arrangement and we’re the best of friends. Topaz is my inspiration, my muse, but she has a life and a career of her own.” “Good answer.” “Thank you.” She posed and smiled and flashes went off. When a frowning Hugo stepped closer, obviously annoyed by the media’s lack of interest in him, she leaned on her front foot and effectively stepped away a little. “How about M. Berthier? Are you with him too, Topaz?” “M. Berthier is a gentleman and a good friend. He is also married.” “Since when has that ever stopped you?” Her smile turned icy. “Since always.” For once, she felt sorry for Louise, who had by now exited the second limousine and was walking to join her husband. She turned to Louise with a warm smile. “Speaking of wives, you know my good friend, Louise Berthier, don’t you?” She didn’t try to exert any influence. Louise was a woman of good sense. She knew how to handle these situations. She’d had years of practice.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

79

While Louise spoke, disgust filled Svetlana’s heart at her words. Louise talked about love and devotion and a true partnership as if she really felt like that. Gracious lies that nobody believed, least of all the media. A touch on her elbow told her Jasper stood next to her. Not too close, because of the press, who were still taking photos and filming the small group, but close enough to give her his sympathy. She felt much better with him here, not so alone. Since when had she become so needy? She’d never needed anyone in her life, so why now? Maybe since one night in Paris, two weeks ago. Jasper’s hand under her elbow urged her forward and they moved into the showroom. “That,” he murmured softly, “will teach Louise for not telling you how cold it would be in that fucking factory.” When she glanced at Louise, she saw sweat beads forming into trickles down her previously flawless makeup job. And Svetlana was glad. She had frozen in that factory, but since she’d posed in a bikini in midwinter Alaska before, she managed to survive. “I’ve known worse.” “But never from spite.” Her purely mischievous grin made him return it. “Jasper, I’m a model,” she said patiently. “I’m used to spite.” He entered the show room on a laugh. Two hours later, pampered, spoiled and exhausted from smiling, thanking people and signing autographs, Svetlana wanted to leave Topaz behind and sink into a warm bath. But she had dinner to get through yet. Jasper rubbed a hand over his forehead, and Svetlana wanted to ease his tension for him. This couldn’t be the only operation he was running at this time, and he had the business to run, too, the prêt-à-porter show, and the Topaz Delirium launch. He never rested, never paused, and rarely showed any signs of tiredness. But he was tired now. He shrugged and addressed Hugo. “Back to the yacht?” “Yes. For dinner and a little entertainment afterward.” “It sounds delightful, as long as you’re not expecting tuxedos. I’m fresh out.” Hugo gave Jasper an easy smile. “No tuxedos, I promise.” Svetlana stretched out her hand and without hesitation, Jasper took it and caressed her fingers, before dropping it as if it burned him. Svetlana froze. A single, unthinking action like that, and her cover was broken. “Don’t worry, it was as much my fault as yours. Neither of us will make that kind of mistake when it counts. We’re too experienced for that.” Experience was one thing. Unthinking passion was another.

*****

80

Lynne Connolly

“It’s good to have such caring people about one,” Louise said coldly. “Indeed.” Hugo crossed the room to the bar in the main lounge of the yacht. “Drink, anyone? I ordered dinner for eight o’ clock, so we have a little time yet.” Louise’s smile turned superior and she lifted her chin slightly. “I think Jasper and I will stay aboard tonight.” Svetlana simmered. “She talks to you as if you’re a couple.” “I know.” He cut off immediately after the communication, leaving only the outer layer of his mind open. That hurt, as if he’d slammed a door in her face, but nothing of this showed in Svetlana’s outer demeanor. She gave Hugo an easy smile and accepted his kiss when he gave her a glass. But the kiss turned to something else. A simple, closed mouth kiss changed when Hugo pulled her close, one strong arm around her waist. He opened his mouth against hers, and she couldn’t get away. She’d imagined Louise would be some kind of buffer, that Hugo wouldn’t blatantly demonstrate his relationship with her, but with his hand on her ass and his tongue down her throat, he was proving her wrong. Dampness soaked through her dress where the wine spilled over the rim. And still Hugo showed no signs of letting her go. His hand roamed up from her ass to her back, pressing her hard against his burgeoning erection until finally his mouth eased, and he finished the kiss. He stared down at her face, panting a little. “So nice to see Hugo enjoying himself,” Louise purred. “Should we join them after dinner, Jasper? Maybe during.” Hugo looked straight at Louise. “I’ve prepared a surprise for dinner.” Another of his shows, no doubt. This assignment was harder than any Svetlana’d done before. She hated it, hated Hugo, hated the way he and Louise conducted their lives, as if their money entitled them to treat others like shit. Svetlana pulled away and took a gulp of the cool, white wine. To her distress, her hand was shaking. She set her teeth on the rim of the glass and forced her body to come back under her command. She could do this. She’d done it before. But Jasper’s presence proved more than unsettling, and the thought of her with Jasper set the firebird always present inside her alight. Unaware of her sparking fury, Hugo settled his arm around her waist and addressed his wife. “Darling, we haven’t done that for some time.” His dark gaze swept over them, everyone on full, bristling alert. “But I’d love to share Svetlana with you.” Louise’s smile beamed, her cosmetically enhanced white teeth beacons in the atmospheric light. “I think we should. Let the girls see how a real woman makes love.” Her attention turned to Jasper. “But let me see how you kiss, Jasper.” Jasper put his wine down on a nearby table. “I sleep with whom I wish, but group sex doesn’t thrill me. If you do this, you’ll have to excuse me from the fun.” Although his smile

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

81

remained in place, Svetlana felt the white-hot rage emanating from him. It was a wonder he didn’t brand Louise before he damped it down and got himself back under control. “So old-fashioned, Jasper dear! I’m sure we can persuade you otherwise. Our bedroom is big enough, and I believe Hugo gave the man who drives the little boat that takes you to shore the evening off.” Jasper shrugged. “No problem. I can manage.” He contacted Svetlana telepathically. “I want you off this yacht tonight. We’re both going ashore.” “Why ?” He knew what answer she wanted from him, and yes, he had personal reasons for his decision, but he’d tell her those later. “Because your job here is done. We’ve located the laboratory, now we need to move

fast to take it down and rescue the Talents there. I don’t want to have to worry about you, so we’re going ashore. I have someone standing by with a speedboat to come get us. If necessary, fake an illness or I’ll have someone call you with a ‘family emergency.’ Choose.” “I’ll fake the illness. It’s faster, and Hugo has had me investigated, so family emergencies are risky. I’ll do it during dinner, as if I’ve got food poisoning or something. Hugo won’t want me around if I bring his precious party down.” “Probably the best.” She felt his satisfaction through their open channel. He hadn’t completely closed to her since they’d made love the day before, left another layer for her, other than the outer one he used for Department business and some intimate communication was possible again. Satisfaction filled her at the thought and the precious feeling of not being alone any more suffused her with a tranquil contentment. Louise crossed to where the open bottle of wine stood on a pier table and refilled her glass. “Let us leave the matter open, then.” She turned around and surveyed them, taking her time. “The women can probably please me, but I like to be fucked at the end of the games. And by someone new.” “I thought she slept with you last night, Jasper ?” “No.” His reply came abruptly and without explanation. Relief surged through Svetlana, though she didn’t want to explore why. He was hers, still hers. The last night he’d made love to anyone had been their encounter on the yacht He’d let her see that much.

***** This evening, the table in the yacht’s dining room was set for a formal dinner. An array of silver lay on either side of each plate. The guests consisted of Louise, Hugo, Svetlana, Jasper, Elaine, Jackie, and Jermaine. Svetlana opened her mind and began to scan, constantly monitoring for changes and peaks in emotions, anything unusual or different. Sexual excitement already heated the room, from various sources, showing up on her scan like

82

Lynne Connolly

hotspots on a thermal imaging camera. That was probably to be expected. She had every expectation that Hugo and Louise had planned an orgy for later on. Svetlana was seated between Hugo and Jackie, while Louise had Jasper on one side and Jermaine on the other. The first course arrived, borne by Virgilio, Chantal, and another male member of the staff. All wore collars, cuffs, and nothing else. So the orgy was now. Great. Svetlana felt the muscles in her neck tense and reached for her wine. A few sips of the cold, dry Bourgogne Chardonnay, and she saw the first course. Oysters. She ate, conversed, and smiled by rote, hardly caring when Hugo put his hand on her knee under the table. She was too tired to care tonight. The next course was chicken and asparagus with some kind of rich cream sauce, and her suspicions were confirmed. “These foods are aphrodisiacs.” “They should help, then,” Elaine the Sorcerer replied, sounding unconcerned. “I’ll need some help tonight if Louise wants to join us.” A low growl sounded deep, deep inside her. Was that really Jasper, expressing his intense dislike of this situation? If so, it echoed her feelings. And tonight Hugo was on form. She might have to play, just a little, before they could get away. They served another wine with this course, but tension in her temples warned her of an impending headache, and she asked for water. It helped her plan, but this headache was genuine enough. Hugo showed her tender concern, and she felt Jasper’s silver-gray stare fix her in place for a second or two until she smiled and insisted she’d be fine. “Just a long day and too much sun. I’ll be okay in a little while. Have you any painkillers?” “Don’t take them,” came his voice down the private link. “You think I’m mad? Of course I won’t, but I do have a headache.” “It’s because of the chill of the factory and then going directly into heat.” He sounded pissed. “Probably.” Knowing the reason for her headache didn’t help much. Hugo drew a small pillbox out of his pocket and offered her two white pills that looked like generic aspirin. She had no intention of swallowing them but pretended to, palming them instead and dropping them in her lap. Who knew what Hugo had in his little pillbox? He wasn’t known as a habitual drug-taker, but like most highfliers, he probably took some, and in any case he owned a chemical company. “Trust no one” was a good adage when she was on an op. Louise stared at her, and her mouth straightened in distaste. Svetlana sipped at her water and made a face. “Lukewarm,” she said. Before Hugo could do anything, Jasper lifted a finger, and Virgilio instantly came to his side. He murmured to him, and within a minute, Virgilio

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

83

delivered a glass of freshly squeezed, ice-cold orange juice to Svetlana. She sipped and sighed in pleasure. “I’m a little dehydrated. That’s probably the reason for the headache.” She drank the first glass and then another that the waiter brought when Louise nodded to him. This one tasted slightly different. Different oranges, she concluded. It was still good. “So you’ll be able to play with us tonight?” Louise gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I wouldn’t dream of playing without her,” Hugo said, giving her hand a slight squeeze before moving his hand away again. Svetlana forced a smile. “I should be okay.” She forked up a piece of chicken and made a play of enjoying it, even though it tasted like cardboard. This time she didn’t imagine Jasper’s low growl, because he articulated it before turning it into a cough. “What do they think you are? A performing animal ?” His anger made her feel better, the thought that someone cared, however much he tried not to. Today had opened him up further. He hadn’t let her into his mind, but he didn’t have to. His anger when he realized she hadn’t been warned about the temperature in the factory, the way he respected her wishes, all told her he cared. Why he didn’t want to admit it was a problem she had yet to solve. Perhaps Cristos could help her. Louise pouted at him. She should check the mirror when she did that. It wasn’t a good look for a woman over forty. “You will reconsider, Jasper darling, won’t you?” Jasper looked down his nose at her. “I don’t think so, Louise.” Instead of backing off, as any sane person would, she persisted. “Dear Jasper, you know you want to.” They finished the meal in apparent cordiality, but the undercurrents weren’t pleasant. Louise’s constant wheedling to Jasper put him on edge. Svetlana felt it as if it were her own irritation, and then it was, because she sure as hell didn’t want Louise messing with Jasper. But Hugo played with her, his occasional touches becoming more proprietary and intimate as the meal went on. The next course was beef tartare. Raw beef and a few other morsels put on skewers with a central pot of sauce. Svetlana hated it, but she took a morsel off Hugo, letting her lips form the requisite pout before Hugo turned to Chantal. “Model this for me,” he said, handing her a strip of green pepper. Chantal smiled and draped the pepper from a nipple, then lifted it for Hugo to taste. He nibbled at the morsel, taking his time, and the others laughed. Svetlana smiled, feeling completely drained but ready to continue her part, praying she wouldn’t have to participate, but knowing that sooner or later she would have to play.

84

Lynne Connolly

Louise turned to Virgilio and slowly looked him up and down, lingering at his crotch. His cock was half erect. “Madame,” he purred. “What is your pleasure?” “Kiss Svetlana. I want to watch.” Virgilio came slowly around the table to Svetlana. Jasper hissed, but no one except Svetlana and Virgilio were close enough to hear it. He glanced at Jasper before he bent to cover Svetlana’s lips with his. His taking was slow, seemingly sensual, but no tongues. “I’m sorry, dubchik.” “We’re only doing what we have to,” she answered, tired even when she spoke telepathically. “And I’d far rather it was you than --” Virgilio glanced at Jasper as he withdrew but quickly returned his gaze to her, smiling gently. She smiled back, and that moment of true friendship buoyed her for what was to come. She was tired. That must be all that was wrong with her. The beef disposed of, the waiters removed it and brought in glass dishes of raspberries, meringues, and cream. All in small pieces. Svetlana guessed why they were in small pieces and eyed her helping dubiously, wondering who would eat it off her. No ice cream. Too cold. This time the attendants didn’t wait to be asked. They dipped into the glasses, decorating their bodies with the little morsels. Virgilio knelt and offered Svetlana a piece of raspberry from his nipple. She took it, touching him as little as possible, and felt his warm response. “I’ll do what I can to help.” “Thank you. Has Jasper told you he wants us off the yacht ?” “I’m staying for a while, to keep an eye on Hugo and Louise, but I’ll make sure Elaine leaves with you tonight.” “Good.” Virgilio could more than take care of himself and while she knew Elaine was a trusted agent, she didn’t know her personally and hated the thought of her remaining as Hugo’s plaything. But Elaine spoke for herself. “I’m staying, too. I don’t mind playing with Hugo and Louise and with Virgilio around, I’ll be okay.” She brought Jasper in. “I thought you wanted us gone ?” “Just you.” His response didn’t give her any clue why he’d made that decision. Maybe he wanted her to help with the takedown of the laboratory. She’d had experience with that before. Or maybe he just wanted her, period. She knew which option she’d prefer but Jasper had locked his emotions down tight again and she had no idea which was his choice. She couldn’t tell the vampire what she wanted, that there was only one person she wanted to eat raspberries from. Virgilio was gorgeous, lean and hard, his body with those enticingly gleaming nipple rings mouthwatering, but she didn’t want him, and she didn’t want this. Not tonight. She’d be happy to watch, but it seemed tonight she was to be a participant. She forced herself to think, but Virgilio’s navel swam before her eyes, and he wasn’t moving.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

85

He put a supporting hand on her shoulder and answered Jasper’s lash of fury. “She’s tired. I’ll do what I can.” Jasper’s response startled Svetlana. He never lost control in an operation, never before, but the strength of the emotion indicated it was an unthinking, reflex, not one he could immediately control. His emotions weren’t as locked down as she’d thought, after all. Jasper subsided, but deep down, Svetlana felt his anger simmering under the surface. She lapped a piece of meringue off Virgilio’s belly. “Anything wrong, dear?” Louise’s solicitous tones didn’t fool Svetlana for a minute but she pretended to respond. “Just this nagging headache. I’ll be fine once I’ve rested.” Louise’s eyes rested on her thoughtfully before she turned her attention to the man whose hand rested on her shoulder. “Ah, you. Come over here.” With a last gentle press, Virgilio left her and strolled around to Louise, his erection no embarrassment or hindrance to him, his easy lope an outward indication of his power. While they’d been at dinner, the sun must have set. This dining room had no exterior windows so Svetlana had to go by the time, but Virgilio would have known the minute the sun slipped below the horizon because he was now full-on vampire. Nothing except the power rippling under his skin, the tingle of electricity in the air, would betray him, but when she entered his mind, Svetlana found a hungry man. “If Louise persists, I’ll feed well tonight.” “But not too much !” came the admonishment from Jasper. Virgilio responded disdainfully. “Do you take me for an amateur ?” He balanced a piece of fruit on his now rigid cock and watched impassively as Louise took it, bending her head to lick and taste. Beside her, Svetlana felt Hugo snap to attention. Although she couldn’t penetrate the strong barriers surrounding his secrets, she felt his excitement rise and guessed another of his secrets. Not just a voyeur, Hugo enjoyed watching his wife getting it on. She knew she was right when Hugo, in a voice lower than his usual mellow timbre, said, “Suck it.” Louise drew Virgilio’s cock right into her mouth. Virgilio’s cock was long and thick. It would have taken a degree of skill to take him down to the root. But Louise had that skill. She dipped her head and took it all. The onlookers hummed. Someone gasped. “You have to admire her technique,” Hugo drawled, giving up all pretence at his interest in Elaine, who stood by his side, a piece of meringue still clinging to her navel. “Make him come, Louise.” Louise’s cheeks pulled in as she sucked, and Virgilio gave a heartfelt groan. Hastily, Svetlana withdrew from Hugo’s mind, the hot images there arousing her despite her enervated state. Hugo loved seeing his wife servicing other men. She wondered if men could

86

Lynne Connolly

have multiple orgasms and knew Hugo would if Jasper fucked his wife. She wanted him, and Hugo wanted to see it. Then she felt a spike of psychic excitement. It didn’t come from the Talents here, all of whom she’d contacted and known. Louise lifted up and away and glanced at Hugo, her lips wet, her eyes gleaming. Waiting for his next command. “You want me to make him come with my mouth?” “Fuck him.” Hugo was the MC tonight. His hand drifted over Svetlana’s shoulders in an absentminded caress, his fingers claiming her but at the moment he was too interested in his wife. Svetlana had no doubt she was next in Hugo’s little concerto. Louise looked at Jasper with eyes of longing, but Hugo snapped his fingers. “I might let you have him if you perform with this one.” Svetlana heard Jasper’s instinctive, angry response in her head, “Nobody orders me !” but she saw nothing in his face. That would show him how she felt, why this assignment disgusted her. “Yes, sir.” Louise’s voice was low but it throbbed with excitement. Svetlana rested, trying to recruit her strength for what she knew was going to happen. Louise reached for the tie that fastened her wraparound silk dress. Untying it, she revealed her lingerie and a lot more. Svetlana had to admit, Louise kept her body in fine form, or someone else did it for her. Gleaming, lightly tanned skin, full breasts under the lacy white bra, and a nicely rounded tush. Virgilio certainly appreciated it, or seemed to. He pushed his turgid cock against her flesh, his breath hissing in when he attained some measure of relief. Louise straightened up and gazed up at Virgilio. “Very nice,” she purred. She drew a manicured nail down his chest, past his nipple, catching his nipple ring as she passed it. Everyone jolted when Virgilio made a small sound of distress or arousal; it was impossible to say which. He had them in the palm of his hand but he seemed passive, waiting for Louise to make all the moves, only responding as the voyeurs expected. His hunger swamped Svetlana and the other Talents at the table. His blood-hunger, enhanced by sex, meant nobody could stop him feeding tonight. Jasper would have to trust Virgilio’s good sense. Virgilio glowered at Louise, his dark eyes hot, and Svetlana felt it when he let a little of his vampire nature through, just enough to raise the atmosphere higher and heat it to simmering. Louise pushed Virgilio into the dining chair she’d vacated when she removed her clothes. Keeping his attention, she undid her front-fastening bra and teased him with it, holding the cups closed before sliding them slowly away and off her body. Her breasts were high and firm, beautifully kept, but like the rest of Louise something was missing. Character, perhaps. So many people had an investment in her that Louise was a conglomeration, a

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

87

corporation of her own. Her masseur, her hairdresser, her beauty specialist, Jasper… They all helped to make her a beautiful woman without a center. Virgilio’s skin virtually glowed, radiating the power he kept ruthlessly locked inside, his muscles flexed with honest toil and exercise, not a running machine or a personal trainer. His face wasn’t handsome, but it was magnetically compelling. And Svetlana knew something of the man inside the breathtaking exterior -- his honesty, loyalty and nononsense approach to any case he worked on. The combination was a good one. Hugo knew what he was doing when he told Virgilio and Louise to get together. As a spectacle, that is. In real life, they’d kill each other. Now Virgilio spread his hand over Louise’s flat stomach, slowly pushing up until he covered her breast, then he stood and turned around, guiding her down into the chair he’d just vacated, all the time massaging her breast. Louise licked her lips. His deliberate movements made Louise squirm in her chair, his open hunger devouring her. Only Virgilio and three people present knew exactly what that appetite meant. Virgilio Dubreis was going to feed tonight. He straddled her, his large body overwhelming her, his rearing cock a challenge. Before she could take it and control the situation again he wrapped one arm around her slender waist and used his other hand to tear her panties off. The resulting shudder passed from Louise to everyone sitting at that table or standing to one side. Virgilio kept his arm around Louise and yanked her up, without testing her with his fingers or kissing her. Straight up and onto his cock. He let her fall back onto the chair then, but went with her, already working her body, pumping hard. Louise jerked as if her body wasn’t under her control anymore, which in a way, it wasn’t. Hugo had told Louise to fuck Virgilio, but the reality was very much the other way around. And Louise loved it. She hooked her arms around the vampire’s neck and dragged him close, pushing her tits into his chest as he thrust into her unresisting body. Then he lowered his head, his hair falling down over his face to disguise the moment he extended his fangs. He took from her neck. Although they had slipped out of his mind as far as they could, Jasper, Elaine, and Svetlana, linked together, all felt a pleasurable jolt when Virgilio’s fangs slid into Louise’s well-nourished flesh. Vampires didn’t usually take much blood, only enough to keep their systems functioning. But Virgilio loved to feed. They all felt the echo from him as the blood rushed up the hollow centers of his fangs, the long drawn out “Ahhh!” The sex was the way Virgilio paid for the blood, and Louise loved it. She writhed against him to create a theatrical effect, probably a little too enthusiastically. “A marriage made in heaven. He loves to watch, she loves to be watched.”

88

Lynne Connolly

Svetlana relished the private contact with Jasper. It was all that was keeping her going right now. At last, Virgilio withdrew his face from Louise’s neck and fucked her harder, lifting her off the chair to thrust into her with increasing force and come inside her. After the space of perhaps three breaths, Louise turned her head and smiled lazily at Svetlana. “Your turn, darling. Then the dear boy can choose between us.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

89

Chapter Twelve Jasper clenched his teeth and forced himself to relax his jaw before he broke somebody else’s. He’d never come so close to striking a woman. With Svetlana an exhausted wreck, how could Louise even think of such a thing? He drew back and picked up his wine glass, glad to see his hand wasn’t shaking. Heat coursed through him, and he felt slightly sick. And dizzy, as if he’d drunk a lot more than two glasses of wine. Maybe he was tired, too. Jasper fought down his desire to take Svetlana away from everything and keep her. She wouldn’t thank him for it. He was becoming familiar with this protective urge, every time he was in her presence. He couldn’t go on like this for much longer. Lassitude spread through his very bones. When was the last time he’d rested, taken the time to take care of himself? He couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, not right now. “Are you ready, Svetlana?” Louise enquired sweetly. As he watched her, Svetlana’s eyelids lowered, and then she forced them open. “Jasper, there’s something wrong.” Jasper forced calm through his system, concentrating, opening to her completely. Yes, she was right. He felt the influence of an unknown drug, spreading like molasses to slow and relax him. He took a deep breath and then another, clearing the drug away. It wasn’t a strong one. Then he opened his eyes and fixed Louise with a dark stare. “What have you done, Louise?” She gave a fluttering laugh. “Why should you think I’ve done anything?” Virgilio stood up, reached for the bottle of wine and sniffed it. He gave Jasper a slight shake of his head.

90

Lynne Connolly

Louise’s laugh died, and a sly grin took its place. “Oh very well. Just a little help toward tonight’s festivities. You know what I want and everyone seems to be willing.” She shot a glance at Svetlana. “Just a mood-enhancer.” Hugo seemed almost indulgent, but when Jasper slipped into Svetlana’s mind, just to assure himself, he realized she’d had much more of whatever stupid drug Louise had given them than he had. He didn’t bother to look at Louise again. He kept all his attention on Svetlana. “Tell me what it was.” “A little tiny bit of ecstasy.” Louise said brightly. “Not really a lot.” “And what about Svetlana?” “Topaz?” Now Svetlana’s eyes fixed on him, though no thoughts went through her mind. She was freezing up. Until a slash of heat went from her into him. Pure, sexual need. Not want but aching need. Louise’s laugh tinkled like broken glass. “I made her a little more willing. I’d like to bet she’d take her clothes off here and now. Strip, Svetlana.” Svetlana began to tear at her clothes, reaching up with clumsy hands to fumble with the zipper tab at the side of her dress. Still in her mind, Jasper felt her horror, and her rising panic. “That’s enough!” Jasper got to his feet, his chair scraping noisily on the varnished wood floor. Svetlana, mid fumble, stopped. He detested seeing her like this -- confused, distressed, and most definitely drugged. He came around the table to her and put his hands on her shoulders. She shuddered and lifted her hands to cover his. “Jasper!” He had to say something before she betrayed herself. And him. “What did you give her, Louise? She’s in trouble.” Louise gave him an amused stare. “Just something we had in the bathroom. Canth -something.” “Cantharis?” Wasn’t that a shitter? “Spanish fly?” Louise’s expression lightened. “Yes, that’s it.” He leaned forward to speak very, very softly to her. “Well, you overdid it. She’s overdosing.” “Oh, mon dieu !” Immediately Hugo got to his feet, but Jasper’s hope of an ally was instantly dissipated. “Get her out of here! The press will have a field day!” He lowered his voice to a menacing growl. “Take her away!” “Yes, Jasper, take her away.” Louise gave Jasper a sultry look from under her lashes. “Put her in her cabin and leave her. Then come back to us. We’ll manage very well without her.” She smiled. “You get to do me next.” As if it was a treat he couldn’t manage without. Jasper put his hand under Svetlana’s arms and hauled her to her feet. Sliding his hand around her waist, he urged her head against his shoulder. “Thank you,” Hugo murmured.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

91

Jasper shot him a look of contempt. “I’m not doing it for you.” He took her out of the dining room, hearing Louise’s glass-edged voice. “Topaz was getting a little boring anyway, don’t you think? I’m sure we can party much better on our own!” Hugo saw his women as disposable, and Svetlana was no different as far as he was concerned. He didn’t give them a glance as they left. Jasper would gladly have killed him, together with his supercilious, lascivious wife who seemed to have a spare pair of hands, such was the difficulty he’d had keeping her off him the night before. They deserved each other, the bitch and her dog. Class meant more than money, and the Berthiers had very little of one and a great deal of the other. Restraining the desire to blast them where they sat, he concentrated on getting Svetlana to move. On deck, he found the small boat moored to the yacht and loaded Svetlana into it. She slumped in her seat, every soft moan she made agony to him. There was no way he wanted her here, even with other Talents on board. They reached the shore without hitting anything, although Jasper wasn’t good at driving these little boats, and he was still shaking off the aftereffects of the drug, so he had a few close shaves with three of the multimilliondollar yachts moored at Juan-les-Pins. He carried her to his car, parked in the hotel car park and after scanning for bugs, he tucked her into the passenger seat and took off, thankful he’d chosen a powerful Audi for this trip. He needed the speed this car would give him. Jasper’s strong instinct was to take her home and he obeyed it. No hotel room or anonymous lodging would do for her. Once out of Juan-les-Pins, he doubled back, watching the rear view mirror. Nobody followed. Svetlana breathed shallowly, strapped in her seat. Jasper monitored her every inch of the way. Svetlana, resting in the seat, moaned and reached for him. “Jasper, I need -- I need --” He smoothed his hand over her temple, pushing her tawny mane back off her face. “I know, ma chérie. I know.” She seized his hand and dragged it to her breast, muttering words in Russian he understood too well. She was burning up for him, for any man. Now he didn’t have to pretend Svetlana was all right anymore. She moaned when he touched her, reached for his hand, and when he grasped hers she begged him. “Jasper please, please.” He stopped the car just past the town and slid his mind into hers. “We need to get out of here, sweetheart.” Now they were alone, he reverted to English. He already thought of it as “their” language. He helped her out and over to a tree. “Try to pee, love.” Spanish fly inflamed the genital area and urinary tract, fooling people into thinking it was an aphrodisiac. He needed

92

Lynne Connolly

to get her to some fresh water, fast, but when he entered her mind, he felt her overwhelming need. More than the urge to have sex with him, anything to relieve the terrible itching heat in her vagina. To get to where it itched and ached inside, scratch it, rub it, anything to soothe it. Taking a few steps away to give her what privacy he could, he wondered if making her shape-shift might help. What did this stuff do to birds? He had no idea; he’d never needed to know before. He suspected it would be the same, the irritation, and she was stronger in her other form, more difficult to control. Never had Jasper felt so helpless and so very angry before. Never had controlling his emotions been so difficult, or so necessary. He’d bring these bastards down if it was his last act as Department chief. Even as he thought it, he recognized how far he’d come, how much he’d do for Svetlana. Anything. “Jasper!” She’d straightened, the bronze silk sheath she wore crumpled over her woebegone form, hair straggling down over her eyes. He was relieved to see she’d been sick as well. Getting the stuff out of her system had to be a good thing. He held out his hand, not at all put off by her bedraggled appearance. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m taking you home.”

***** The Audi purred to a halt outside his farmhouse two hours later. Two hours Jasper would do anything in his power not to relive, ever. He’d found a garage and realized he carried little cash. The car had enough fuel, so he didn’t have to worry about that, but he could only afford to buy three bottles of spring water when he wanted to buy every bottle in the fucking store. Svetlana was burning up. She needed to drink. He daren’t use his credit cards. God knew who Hugo had under his thumb in this part of the world, and what he couldn’t bribe, he could probably get one of his computer geeks to discover. Jasper wanted to leave no clue, no way for Hugo to know where he was. He’d already rummaged through Svetlana’s evening purse and dumped her cell phone, along with his, taking no chances that Hugo had somehow gotten hold of them. He had another phone at the villa he was taking her to, not the villa he’d hired for the operation but his own, private home. After several stops for Svetlana to pee, finally she began to make more sense, and her cries became less frantic. But that in itself became torture when instead of pleading with him, she used her considerable seductive abilities, telling him what she’d like him to do, how she wanted to be taken. “I’ll suck you dry, Jasper,” she whispered, in a voice roughened by passion, “and I’ll still make you beg for more.” He didn’t doubt it. Her promises made his dick stand painfully at attention for most of the journey, and the space inside the Audi became limited, Jasper having to fidget to get

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

93

comfortable enough to drive. He made soothing sounds, but she took no notice. When he shifted the car into fourth gear, she put her hand on top of his, caressing it so he wanted to stop and take her there and then feel all that sweet, silky skin against his, hold her close, and never let her go. Remaining inside her head, as he had to do to monitor her condition, was torture. She drove him mad with her fantasies and he had to admit she had a wonderfully vivid imagination. By the end of their journey, they might as well have gone three rounds already but he wanted more, wanted her under him, on top of him, any fucking way he could have her. But he couldn’t. Svetlana was feverish, not in her right mind. She’d have fucked Hugo and Louise and Dubreis, all of them tonight. Twice. The thought brought his teeth together and forced a growl from his suddenly tightened throat. He’d sent her to fuck Hugo and anyone else she had to, just for information. Jasper felt worse than any pimp in the world, because Berthier wouldn’t even pay her. He drove the car around to the back of the house, where nobody would see it from the road, and lifted Svetlana out of the seat. He put her down, steadying her with a hand around her waist. This place was one of his secrets, an old farmhouse he used as a retreat. Only one other person -- Cristos -- knew of its existence. Now three people would know. The place was alarmed and locked up tight, but the alarm was a combination of a keyed-in number and fingerprint recognition software. Once he’d disabled that, he could open the door with a thought. The lock slid open as if it lived to serve him. He carried Svetlana through and into the cool, unlit hall. Home. One of the few places in the entire world he felt truly welcome. In contrast to his Paris apartment, the simple rustic furnishings and soft colors here soothed him. Usually he found peace in this place, but now he’d invaded it with distress and pain. He didn’t regret it for a minute. Instead, he’d brought her here like a bee bringing honey to the hive. He carried her up to the bedroom, and she fumbled with his collar. Svetlana undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt in the time it took him to climb the stairs and slide her onto the big bed in the master bedroom. She curled up then reached for him. “No, sweetheart. You have to drink some more.” She pouted, and despite her distress, he felt the urge to kiss the pout from her lips. “You stay here, and I’ll get some water.” Would anything else help? He racked his brain for what little he knew about Spanish fly. He could call someone but he thought he knew what to do and he had some books on poisons downstairs. He could check while he got her some water.

94

Lynne Connolly

Downstairs he grabbed the book and leafed to the right page, scanning the information rapidly. He stripped off his jacket and threw it on the nearest chair on his way to the kitchen. He filled a pitcher with cold water from the tap. Yes. Make her drink bland liquids and flush the stuff out, wait until she eased out of it. His housekeeper hadn’t been expecting him and she wouldn’t have stocked the fridge. Tap water would do fine. By the time he got back upstairs, Svetlana was tossing restlessly in the bed and moaning, small whimpers that cut his heart out. Barely conscious, when he poured a glass of water and held it to her lips, she knocked it out of his hand and stared at him. “You trying to poison me?” She’d reverted to Russian, the language of her childhood. He answered her in the same language. “No, dubchik, I would never do that.” But he didn’t imagine the terror in her eyes when he poured another glass. He put it on the nightstand. Her hands crept down her dress, gripping her crotch and beginning to rub. Jasper centered himself and entered her mind. Feverish dreams and a fear of the water he was trying to give her assaulted him, but since this wasn’t his mind, he could combat them. Svetlana couldn’t. A burning sensation, that was why she was rubbing, not because of any sexual need. He found a touch of the barbiturates and E Louise had fed her in that lethal cocktail. The bitch didn’t care who she hurt in her headlong search for satisfaction. He slid his arm behind Svetlana’s shoulders and lifted her up. She nestled into him, still whimpering. It was so unlike Svetlana to complain, he knew it had to be the drug. Then Jasper drew a deep breath and did what he hated to do. He took control of her mind. Compulsion was banned in the Talented community, on pain of death, but Jasper was a Guardian, empowered to give permission in exceptional circumstances. By rights, he should ask permission from someone else but not here, not now. Svetlana would hate for anyone else to know her in this state, even Cristos. He tried her again with the water, and this time she gulped it down. The next glass came with a couple of ibuprofen from his bathroom cabinet. He didn’t want to try her on anything stronger. God knew she’d had enough drugs tonight. While he had her leaning against him, he pulled her zipper tab and loosened her dress. He wanted to make her comfortable but when he lifted her to ease the dress over her hips, she snuggled closer. Feeling all that beautiful skin against him, even though he was clothed, his mind deeply in hers, almost proved his downfall. He wanted her so badly, even now. With shaking hands, he eased her back against the pillows. She still wore her underwear, a matching lacy bra and panties in pale blue, with hold-up silk stockings. His hands shook even more when he rolled them down her legs. He laid her back against the sheets and she opened her eyes. Their gazes locked. “I want you, Jasper,” she whispered. “I can’t bear this.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

95

“No.” Unable to resist touching her, he skimmed his hand down her arm. “You’re not well, darling. You need to rest.” Her smile melted him. “Thank you for looking after me. Will you come back?” She sounded normal, but he sensed the turbulent emotions inside her. All her inhibitions were gone, her need too impersonal to reflect how she really felt, what she, Svetlana Yevchenko, wanted. So he found it easier to resist this time. “We’ll talk in the morning, Svetlana.”

“Stay with me?”

“It’s not wise.”

“Please, Jasper.”

Her use of his name undid what resolve he had left. While he wouldn’t make love to

her when she was in this state, his strong need to take care of her overwhelmed him. Certainly every other consideration -- the operation, the Department, everything -- took second place to his concern for Svetlana. “I’ll stay.” That seemed to relax her and indeed he felt waves of reassurance filling her mind. She would sleep if he were here. Sighing, he covered her with the sheet before lying down beside her, on top of the sheet. The big bed meant they didn’t have to touch, but just before he released control of her mind, convinced she would keep the water and pills down and was relaxed enough to sleep, she took his hand. About an hour later, when he was certain she was sleeping peacefully, he slipped away to find a telephone.

96

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Thirteen Svetlana swallowed and came awake. Why was she so thirsty? And yet her bladder was full; she felt it when she turned over. The heavy weight on the sheet she lay under had woken her. When she’d tried to turn over and take the sheet with her, she hadn’t managed it. She was almost afraid to turn around. Something bad had happened last night. She remembered the dinner but not much after that. Had she gone to bed with Hugo? Virgilio? Who was in bed with her? This room didn’t look like a hotel room. The paintings on the walls, small watercolors, looked like originals, and the vanity held a jumble of clean but used brushes and toiletries. This room had individual taste, not the bland, one-size-fits-all approach of the usual hotel room, or the obsessively coordinated approach of the top-level suites. The paintings didn’t match in color, or artist, or size from what she could tell. They were views and landscapes. Where had they brought her? And why wasn’t she feeling more afraid? “Because I’m here.” The fear of what she might see left her, and she spun around in the bed to face Jasper. As if he couldn’t help himself, he reached for her and stroked her hair, cupping her head in his hand. His smile was gentle, his eyes soft and understanding. The fashion guru, the ruthless businessman, was nowhere in this room. He wore his underwear, tight white boxers, but nothing else. His hair fell tousled around his face and light stubble graced his chin. “Good morning,” he said. “Jasper, where…?” She didn’t know where to start; so many questions crowded her mind.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

97

“First things first. Good morning, Svetlana.” His eyes gazed into hers, and she felt him move lightly in her head. He hadn’t left her. “Good morning, Jasper.” He leaned forward and kissed her. Only gently but she hadn’t ever received a kiss like that from him before. Passionate soul kisses, yes, kisses of greeting, air kisses, but not a kiss of tender caring like this. “Would you like a drink?” “Yes, please.” “Wait here. I’ll get one for you.” He swung his feet out of bed and made for the door, rumpling his hair as he stretched. At the door he turned back to her. “Any preference?” She shook her head and sat up, giving herself a minute or two to regain her balance before heading for the bathroom. She found the door at her first attempt, which was fortunate. The other door must be the closet, or a walk-in wardrobe. Not bothering to take in any details, she used the toilet, sighing in relief when the pressure on her bladder subsided, washed her hands and face, brushed her teeth with the toothbrush she found in the cupboard above the sink, and staggered back to bed, feeling more relieved but still like death warmed up. In a few moments, Jasper returned with a jug of what looked like fresh apple juice and two glasses. The jug chinked as he poured it out, and ice cubes touched the glass. He put the glass down on the small table on her side of the bed then walked around to the other side, where he’d slept. She watched his tanned body moving easily, invitingly. The vague burning sensation in her vagina increased, so she sat up and lifted her glass. “So tell me what happened.” “Drink the first glassful, and then I will,” was his response. Obediently, she drank. It tasted delicious. When she’d finished, he refilled her glass. “I called my housekeeper this morning to tell her I was back, and she did some shopping for me. We have fresh supplies here now.” “What time is it?” “Nearly noon. You needed the sleep. So did I,” he added, making a wry face. They spoke English, natural for them now. She sipped from the second glass. “I remembered the meal, Louise’s demands, and her little show. Did she drug me?” He nodded and turned to put his empty glass down. She watched his back and longed to touch him, to feel him and make sure he was real. A dreamy sensation drifted through her head. Remains of the drug, most probably. “She gave us all a mild barbiturate, to relax us, I suppose. Not too much; she didn’t want to send us to sleep. And a little E.” He took a couple of deep breaths, bringing himself under control. She felt it because he stayed in her head, let her witness everything he felt. Then he turned to look at her, and the searing, haunted expression in his eyes told her

98

Lynne Connolly

everything, more than she ever imagined. “If she had hurt you any more than this, I would have killed her.” Looking at his face, she didn’t doubt it. “She gave you something else as well. Probably in that second orange juice you had. You threatened to ruin her evening, and she wanted to make an example of you. Or maybe you were supposed to be the center of her little show.” “I thought she or Hugo might try something, so I kept the pills Hugo gave me for analysis. They’re in my purse.” He flashed a grim smile. “I know. You’re too good an operative to take them just like that.” He paused, frowning. “Dubreis got the first glass of juice for you, so that was fine, and neither of us monitored the second glass as we should have done. Louise gave you cantharis. And a few other things I couldn’t identify. She must play with her husband’s chemical supplies.” She stared at him in shock. “She gave me Spanish fly?” He grunted his confirmation. “The bitch thought it was an aphrodisiac. It isn’t. It leads to priapism in men, a constant hard-on, and severe vaginal irritation in women, but neither reaction is sexual. They’re not aphrodisiacs; they just enable performance. Louise is a stupid, selfish woman. She didn’t care if she encouraged you or incapacitated you, as long as you were willing for what she had planned last night.” He reached for her hand, as if he needed to touch her. “She could have killed you. I daren’t shape-shift you until we were back here, and I was sure you could cope. In your firebird form, you might have been uncontrollable if the drug affected you badly, and I can’t shape-shift. I managed to find an expert in the States after I got you here and asleep, and he confirmed you’d recover faster if I shape-shifted you.” “You can do that?” She had always thought only certain medically trained Sorcerers could do that. Shape-shifting was a conscious thing, the only time they changed their form involuntarily was at the three days every month when the moon was at its fullest, and they were over a week from that point. His face relaxed just a little. “Yes, I can do that. I shape-shifted you and made sure you were comfortable up here before I called my housekeeper. Now we have some fresh food and some time to rest.” “The assignment?” “Elaine and Dubreis are coping. I called them, too, to tell them you were okay. On a secure phone, in case you were wondering.” He smiled, but there was no humor in the grim set of his lips. “Dubreis didn’t just feed off Louise last night; he went into her mind deeply and read everything he could, though he says she has some suspiciously strong mental blocks, like the ones you found in her husband. It seems Louise’s main course last night was to be me. She would have Dubreis as an appetizer and me after that. She planned to have you set in the middle of the table, fucked by anyone who wanted you, any way they wanted. The accompanying film of you would have reached the Internet by morning. But by overdosing

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

99

you, Louise lost me. So she went off to bed on her own in a sulk, and Elaine stayed with Hugo.” “You might have lost a customer.” He touched his lips to her hand. “Believe me, that’s the last thing on my mind.” “Don’t drop her because of me.” “If I drop her, it will be because she has ceased to be of use to me.” For a moment, he sounded like the cold, arrogant Jasper Lebec, not this warm, caring person she’d found beneath the veneer. A man of great strength, resilient and powerful. And a desperately shy man, one who hated attention and fuss and giving orders but did it anyway. All this was open, there for her to read. He wasn’t hiding from her anymore. He lifted up on to one elbow, to lean over her. “In this house, I’m not Jasper Lebec. I’m John Reynolds, an English businessman who bought this place to holiday in.” “So it’s as well we both speak English.” He paused and his eyes met hers, sharply aware. She knew he was about to tell her something he hadn’t told anyone else. “I was born English.” “You were?” “Do you object?” “No. I mean…Why should I? How could I?” “No secrets any more, Svetlana, not between us. Let me hold you now.” Willingly, she went into his arms when he flung the sheet back and reached for her. Surrounded by his strength, by the sight and smell of him, still she wanted something else. Perhaps not yet. Perhaps he wouldn’t want her. He seemed more at ease in this place, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted her. And nobody could want her in this state. “Jasper, I want to bathe or shower. I feel hot and sticky. Did you make me vomit?” “No, you did that all on your own. I was glad, because it seemed to make you feel better. Okay, you stay there, and I’ll see to everything.” He swung his body off her, and she watched him climb off the bed and open the bathroom door. He left it open, and the sound of running water reached her. A bath, then, not a shower. He was back in a few moments, lifting her off the bed. He took her into a large bathroom. The only comparison with the bathroom in Paris was its size. This one had a deliberately old-fashioned feel, with a white porcelain bath and shiny chrome fittings. Prints hung on the whitewashed walls and a large window opened on a breathtaking view of the fields beyond. Water steamed in the large tub, beckoning her. Jasper helped her in then climbed behind her, to hold her close to his body. He curved his arms around her, just below her breasts, so she couldn’t turn around easily. They lay in companionable silence for five

100

Lynne Connolly

minutes and Svetlana thought she might decide to stay there for the rest of the day, if he didn’t mind. He spoke into the silence, words she never thought she’d hear from him. “I love you, Svetlana.” “I love you too, Jasper.” He curved a hand to cup one breast, the gesture more protective than sensual. “I know.” But he didn’t sound glad. She tried to turn around, but he wouldn’t let her. “No, just listen to me. This isn’t all good, sweetheart.” He stroked her hair, his eyes distant in thought. “No secrets between us any more, Svetlana. I promise.” It must be so hard for him to promise that. His sincerity took all her breath from her in a whoosh. “Shall we start with me, what I am, and what this could mean for both of us?” Loud enough for her to hear, his murmur was somehow more intimate than telepathy. “Jasper, you don’t have to --” “Yes, I do. You’ll understand when you’ve heard everything.” He sighed, a heartfelt sigh of regret and relief, mingled in a way she didn’t comprehend. “We call ourselves Ancients, but another name for us is Archetypes. Another is gods.” “What?” She jerked away, but he pulled her back against him. He didn’t feel like a god to her; he felt like a man. “When we’re still in the womb, an Ancient enters us, like a parasite or a symbiote. We coexist with the god, bear his attributes and his powers. Or hers, of course, but they are sexspecific. Our forebears, the people who held the powers before us, set themselves up as gods, their Talents strong enough to fool the people they ruled. They were flattered and delighted by the accolades they received. But they made horrific mistakes, and eventually they were hounded down and destroyed. We can be killed, as they discovered, but the god part is reborn in another body. It leaves at the moment of death and seeks another body to inhabit, always a baby in the womb. The Ancients decided to hide, much as other Talents do, in plain sight, masquerading as human.” “So you’re older than you told me? How old are you, really?” His soft grunt vibrated against her. “As old as I told you. I was born in 1731. In 1730 our enemies got the better of us.” He leaned back while Svetlana tried to take all this in. She thought Talents were all known to each other, that they knew what existed and what didn’t. Now she discovered there was a whole race, a species keeping itself secret from everyone else, even other Talents. Jasper continued his story. “Ancients used to meet regularly to exchange news and socialize, but that day in 1730 someone had set explosives in the house where they met. Their spirits dispersed, and some took root in the pregnant bodies of women our enemies had collected for that purpose. Some migrated even farther. That’s why we try to make sure there aren’t more than two of us in any place these days. I wasn’t born until a year after the disaster.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

101

“So you’re a god?” He stroked her breast and although his touch was gentle, she peaked for him, her body responding to the man born to touch it in just this way. “Not anymore. I never was, not really.” “So who are you? Apollo, Mercury, Thor?” “Nothing so famous. Ever heard of Jarilo?” She had. “Of course. A Russian god, a god of the seasons, but with a particularly Russian twist. My grandmother told me the stories.” Her mind went back to the small cottage, the flickering fire, and the words of her grandmother. Unconsciously she switched to the Russian of her youth. “Jarilo fell in love with Morana, and they married. She bore him children, but when Jarilo was unfaithful to her, she killed him, and then used his bones to make her house. She turned into a hag and spent the rest of her life mourning him and taking revenge on mankind.” “My little Cossack,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “That’s just a legend, isn’t it?” This time, she pulled out of his arms and turned around to face him, the only sound coming from the water sloshing in the tub. He watched her, his gaze steady and somber. His eyes, so warmly passionate before, looked cold now. “Not entirely. That part is true. If I fall in love, and she falls in love with me, our fate is set. If we allow ourselves to love, you will kill me, Svetlana, and then you’ll waste the rest of your life mourning and regretting.” “I won’t kill you, Jasper.” He stroked her back and pressed her close for another kiss. “You will if we continue this. That’s why we can’t allow it, why we must part.” She sat up straighter, sending the water swirling again. “You can’t trust me that much? You mean I’ll kill you even if I don’t want to, even if I set out not to? Jasper, that’s insane. I won’t kill you !” “You will.” He lay very still watching her. Her quick anger, inherited from her Cossack forebears, rose to confront him. “I don’t believe in fate, Jasper. Nobody can tell what is going to happen in the future, because it hasn’t happened yet. We make our own future. You’d put us both through hell because of a stupid prophecy?” He sighed and tilted his head back against the rim of the bath, covering his eyes with one hand. “It’s happened many times before. We Ancients carry the memories of our forebears if not their bodies. I remember twenty and every single time it happened. It will happen again. My forebears have tried to fight it, but it always came to the same thing. She kills him.” “Not this time, Jasper.”

102

Lynne Connolly

“Yes. This time too. I’ve lived longer because I have never allowed this to happen. So far. You’re the greatest temptation I’ve ever met.” “Jasper, I won’t kill you.” “Please, Svetlana. Learn to accept our fate. It has already begun. The clock is already ticking.” She stared at him, tension filling every part of her body. “I can’t accept it, Jasper. I won’t kill you.” He sighed and leaned forward to rest his hands on her shoulders. “It started when we fell in love. I won’t run from it anymore, Svetlana. If you believe nothing else, believe that I love you, and believe that when our fate comes upon us, I will regret nothing. Nothing!” She lifted her hand, and he took it, raising it to his lips to bestow a soft kiss on her palm. The contact made her shudder with need. He was fully erect now, his cock standing stiff between them. She shifted her legs over his, so she could move closer, but he held her off the last few inches, lifting his knees to stop her getting closer. “I don’t want you to regret anything, Svetlana. I want you to understand what we’ve set in motion and come to terms with it. I didn’t want you to go through a lifetime’s regret.” He bit his lip, his teeth sharply denting the soft flesh. “That’s why I fought so hard against this and tried to push you away. But when I saw you on the yacht that day and felt your pain, I knew I’d done something terrible. I sent you there out of my own cowardice, and for that, I’ll never forgive myself.” She squeezed his hand and swallowed down the lump in her throat. “You gave me the choice, Jasper. I could have refused to go.” He used their linked hands to pull her closer, lowering his knees so she could slide over them and bring her body to nestle against his. The contact brought a soothing stimulation to her, arousing but making her feel secure and wanted. His arms went around her, and he held her close. “I can’t forgive myself for that. I’m sorry, more than I can say. You agreed to the operation, and then we spent that night together.” “I wouldn’t have missed that.” He kissed the top of her head. “But I shouldn’t have driven you away. I should have met you at the door of the atelier the next day, taken you upstairs and made it clear you were mine. Not sent you to service someone else. The truth is, I’m a coward.” He took a few deep breaths. She wasn’t in his mind; she daren’t enter it, although she suspected he wouldn’t keep her out. He continued to speak, his voice shaking slightly, something that moved her more than she’d thought possible. Jasper Lebec was never less than supremely in control. Maybe John Reynolds was different. “I knew there was an attraction between us, but I thought it was merely lust, that we’d try to get it out of our system that night, after you’d agreed to go to Hugo Berthier. But after the first time we made love, deep down I knew that was impossible. It wasn’t mere lust. I didn’t need Cristos to tell me.” “He came back?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

103

“Briefly, while you were asleep. He told me to face it then. I tried, but I drove you away. He was right. I was wrong.” Behind her, a faucet opened, and water poured into the bath. Startled, Svetlana lifted her head and looked for the remote. Jasper pulled her back to rest against him, her cheek against his the hard wall of his chest. “Telekinesis. I thought the water was chilling.” The faucet turned off. Jasper gave a short laugh. “I’m going to have to apologize to Cristos now. He’ll enjoy that.” He paused. “No, he won’t. He hates waste and unhappiness.” “Were you unhappy?” “Very much, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve avoided women before, women I thought I might be getting too fond of…but you!” “Me?” She lifted her chin to him and received a look so burning, so searing, she felt she might sizzle into embers where she sat. Their mouths close without kissing, their bodies pressed together without joining, this was more intimate than she’d ever been with anyone before. “At first, I thought you were my muse, that’s all. Designers often have someone as the center of their collection, and you suited my designs. But it was always more than that. I know you’ve worked on honey trap assignments before, but if you recall, before this, I’ve never sent you on one.” Surprised, she realized that was true. “Jasper, I didn’t --” “Please. I don’t think I can say this more than once. Cristos always said humble pie would be good for me. I’m eating a big chunk of it now. I wanted to call you back as soon as you’d gone. I thought perhaps we could still avoid this fate. So I gave myself the present of that one night, planned to send you away, find a new muse, and let you go. Only I didn’t, did I?” “No.” As if drawn to her, he brought their lips together, but he drew back after a single taste. “When did you know?” she asked him. “That we were in love? That our mutual love had put our fate into operation?” A flicker of a smile twitched at the side of his mouth. “When we left the factory yesterday, after Louise’s carelessness meant you froze during that visit. My protective instincts toward you startled me into realization. I know you don’t need protection; you’re a firebird, one of the strongest creatures in existence, but I still wanted to protect you, look after you. It started earlier, when I climbed aboard that fucking yacht for the first time and saw you on display as his woman. I wanted to kill Berthier and take you away like I was some kind of caveman.” She hid her head against his chest. “I didn’t want you to see me like that. On display. I felt cheap.” He jerked up her chin and pushed her hair back so he could look at her. The suddenness took her completely by surprise, and she left her tears glistening in her eyes. Jasper stared at her until her eyes spilled over, and the tears trickled down her cheeks. With

104

Lynne Connolly

exquisite care, Jasper kissed them away. “You could never do that, darling. Never. You can be dressed like a cheap whore and still exude class and style. Just because you’re you. And in case you were wondering, no, you didn’t look like a cheap whore on the yacht. A very expensive one, maybe. One I could never afford.” He lifted her up, over his straining cock. “I need you, Svetlana. I want to make love to you. Now.” Silently she nodded, holding on to his waist while he lowered her on to him. She was as ready as he and he entered her with only a little resistance. Both sighed their relief. To touch, to hold was wonderful, but to feel his body in hers was sublime. He settled her down so she rested on his thighs. Her legs curled around him when he moved away from the edge of the bath. “Svetlana.” The word was a statement, a promise and a declaration, all in one. He moved in her mind and opened to her. “No secrets, sweetheart, only those that aren’t mine to share. I offer myself, everything I am.” She took him, entered him, and loved him. He moved inside her, mind and body, gently but totally, taking control of their loving. Bracing her knees against the bath, she created resistance for his deep, long thrusts, as he took her with a thoroughness no one had ever done before. “Come inside, Svetlana. Deep inside. Never leave me.” A sob threatened to form in her throat. Never had she imagined he would give himself to her so completely. “I won’t leave you, Jasper.” Jasper caught his bottom lip between his teeth and pulled her down hard as he drove into her. She gasped and lost it, a powerful orgasm arriving from nowhere, taking her completely. When she heard Jasper’s cry, she knew he’d joined her. His cock pulsed, delivering his seed to her. A gift. Short but so very sweet. She opened her eyes and looked down at his dear face. “Thank you.” His smile gave her everything she wanted. As he lifted her, he got to his feet and carried her to the large shower stall in the corner of the room. A gurgle heralded the bath emptying before the shower came on. He washed them both. When she tried to help, he put his hands over hers. “Let me,” he murmured, and she let him. He turned her around and massaged her shoulders and her back, curling his arms around her to lather her breasts. She leaned against him, her wet hair sandwiched between them. “You have a wonderful touch.” “Thank you. You need it, after what I put you through.” His hands stilled on her breasts, and she felt disturbance rippling in his mind. “I’ll never forgive myself for sending you to Berthier.” She turned around, sliding around to let him hold her loosely around her waist. “Don’t do this, Jasper. I chose to take the assignment. Many lives are at stake. They still are.” He took her chin in his hand, refusing to let her look away. “Is that how you do it? Try to divorce your body and mind from what’s happening?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

105

She nodded. “Normally, yes. I’ve baited honey traps before. I try to remember what I’m doing, what the ultimate goal of the operation is. Once I --” “Don’t tell me. Please.” Jasper sounded so unlike his imperious self she stopped. This was a vulnerable person, not a man so sure of himself he could tear a gown he’d been working on for six months and send her out to face the press with her lipstick mussed. “I’m beginning to believe I don’t know you at all,” she said. “Do you like it? Or should I go back to the arrogant designer?” She grinned up at him. “I like him, too. I like the way he takes crap from nobody. But this Jasper“ -- she put a hand over his heart --“this Jasper I love.” Her reward was a kiss, a taking as deep as their lovemaking of a moment before. “For a moment,” he whispered, after he’d lifted his mouth from hers, “I wanted it to be true, that you weren’t in love with the man here, just the haughty businessman. Then I didn’t.” “Why? Why, Jasper?” “I told you. Remember Jarilo’s fate, darling. You’re going to kill me.” “No!” Reaching outside the shower stall, she grabbed a thick towel from a heated rail and stepped out. She needed the security of something around her body, something to stop the hurt, however stupid it seemed. “Don’t start that again, Jasper. I’ll never do that.” “You will.” He turned off the faucet, this time using his hands, and found another towel. A series of sweeps dried him, and then he dried his hair roughly. But when he reached for her, she stepped away. “I don’t believe in fate. The future hasn’t happened yet. We can change it.” “You think I haven’t tried?” He followed her into the bedroom, but she kept out of reach. Only then did she realize she had no clothes. She gave a semihysterical laugh, half tears, half laughter. “Have you anything for me to wear?” He shot her an appalled glance. “No.” His mobile mouth curled into a reluctant smile. “Who would have thought that? I’ll arrange something, but not now. Come to bed, sweetheart. You have to rest.” “Not when you accuse me of terrible things.” She unwound the towel, fully aware of the futility of trying to hide her body from him, the man who’d seen her naked more times than anyone else. Besides, rubbing herself dry helped to disguise her shivers. “I won’t kill you.” “You will. Svetlana.” He strode across the room to her and when she would have moved away, grasped her shoulders. “No, don’t turn away. We have to face this.” Svetlana stared up at him, loving him so much her heart ached. “I’ll never kill you.” He touched her cheek and stroked one finger down to her chin. “It’s happened many different ways. Deliberately or accidentally, it happens. Every time. Sometimes the Jarilo of

106

Lynne Connolly

the time and his lady have tried to avoid their fate. Once, he moved across the other side of the world, but she sent him a letter laced with poison.” She tried to understand, but this went against everything she believed. Svetlana had fought against her fate all her life. Sometimes she’d won, sometimes she’d lost, but she’d always made her own decisions and accepted the consequences. “You talk about Jarilo as if he’s separate from you.” “He is. I am me, John Reynolds, Jasper Lebec, but I inherited the attributes of the god. And his fate.” He tried to draw her close but she resisted. If he’d wanted to he could have dragged her against him, she knew that, but he let his hands rest on her shoulders. “It will happen. I think the key is if we accept it and enjoy the time we have. What I don’t want is for the loved one’s fate to happen to you.” “What’s that?” “A long life and endless regret. Sometimes she kills herself, unable to bear life without him. Or she lives on, thinking about what she has done every day, and her life is one long agony.” She finally believed that part. He was so sure, she sensed no doubt in his mind. Svetlana stared up at him and knew what her fate would be. She was useful to the Talented community. She owed it to others -- the people who’d trained her, the people who believed in her -- to be one of the Department’s field agents, not to throw her life away. A debt she owed, to Cristos who’d saved her from Russian agents, to Jasper, who’d made her his muse, even to Will Grady, head of the British Department, who offered her steadfast friendship. She wet her lips. “Can we do nothing to stop it?” “Please, Svetlana, don’t fight against it. If you accept it, you might be able to reconcile yourself to it.” When he drew her close this time, she didn’t resist. “We can’t live our lives in anticipation of the one thing that will end mine.” At last she believed him, if only because he believed it himself. She wouldn’t do it. She knew that, so what did it matter? He made a sound low in his throat. “When we fell in love, fate went into motion, and nothing can alter it. That moment when I knew I loved you and felt your love for me, that was when it started. We can live the rest of our time apart or grab what happiness we can and be together. My predecessors tried to stop it, and none of them have ended any differently.” “I don’t know how you can remember all that and not go mad.” She had other lives, but she was always Svetlana, the “lives” an artificial construct to take her longevity into account. Jarilo had died, become someone else, and lived again. “It’s not me. It’s other men. I carry their memories; that’s all. And there’s no emotion with them. Just the factual memories.” He pulled the towel from between them and dropped it carelessly on the floor. “Come back to bed. Unless you’re hungry?” No, she wasn’t hungry. She let him feel it, and he smiled, took her hand, and led her to the bed, rumpled sheets and all. “I want you to rest.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

107

“You need it, too. You’ve worked hard on the new collection, haven’t you? And then this assignment on top of it all…” He gave her a rueful smile. “Yes, I’ve worked hard.” He ran his hand down her side, breast to hip. “I have to. When I think of those tortured souls in that laboratory, and in all the others the Corporation has, the ones we haven’t discovered yet, I want to destroy the world and stop their suffering. But I can’t do that without a power base and the force to do it.” He traced a line on her skin and she felt the tranquility she brought to him. She knew he was right, but like him, she ached for the tortured souls in the labs. “If we didn’t plan the takeover properly, they would kill the Talents they have.” “Yes. And the labs are keeping them alive, when they can. There’s no value in a dead vampire, at least no value they know of.” “Pray it stays that way.” A vampire could only convert another at the expense of his own life, but as far as they knew, the Corporation hadn’t gotten hold of that little nugget of information. Not yet. “Plans are under way for the perfume factory. We’re trying to get people in place so that they can prevent any precipitate action when the scientists realize we have them in our sights. Dubreis will deputize for me if any opportunity occurs while I’m looking after you here. Nothing will stop us taking that facility down when the time is right.” His gentle touches became firmer strokes, and she felt his concentration shift to her. “Enough of that. We have a little time, while we put the next stage of the operation into place.” She sighed, knowing what he said was true. Agony knowing there were Talents suffering, but to take such a well-protected facility down, they needed to have everything in place. Rushing in now would merely mean unnecessary deaths and the loss of all the information they wanted to seize. Jasper smiled down at her. She felt his determination to make her well, to protect her. For now, she would let him. “You’re so beautiful, Svetlana. Naturally beautiful. And naturally slim, too. I’ve taken more notice recently of the real woman, not the ideal one I used to design for. I don’t like the way they try to change their natural form.” He stroked her again. She let him talk, knowing he needed to link himself back to his everyday world. “Something is always wrong. Their heads end up too large for their bodies, or their breasts sag, or they just aren’t in proportion.” He sat down and tugged her hand, urging her by his side. Then he swung his legs up and lay down. She lay down with him. “So I want to celebrate the way a woman is. I’m choosing the models very carefully for the prêt-à-porter show. The choreographer will go insane when he sees who I’ve chosen.” A wicked smile curved his lips. “And I want you in the center of it. As my bride.” She lifted up on to one elbow to look down at his face. “Again? They’ll think we’re together, Jasper! Nobody has been your bride twice.”

108

Lynne Connolly

“Good. And I didn’t mean just on the catwalk. We are together, Svetlana. I want the world to know.” “What?” From despair to love in just under a day? How the fuck did this happen? As if she’d spoken aloud, he answered her. “We’ve been denying this for years. I’ve wanted you for a long time, tried to fool myself that this was lust, desire, liking…anything but love. I tried to push you away by sending you to Berthier, because then there was hope for you, but you know what happened then. I handled matters badly this time, or you wouldn’t have noticed.” “You’ve done it before? Pushed me away?” In her heart, she knew he had, remembered the times he’d refused to have her on his team, using some excuse. Nodding, he reached up to twine a lock of her damp hair in his fingers, watching the fiery strands catch the light streaming in through the windows, setting his hand alight. “Several times. I had you assigned to Cristos when Grady wanted you. You were supposedly born in the States, so I thought you might want to move back there one day. England was too close to France for my liking.” There was one thing she didn’t understand. “Then why make me your muse?” “To torture myself.” He caught her gaze, held it with his bright, intent stare. “I couldn’t keep away from you. It’s like when you touch an iron to make sure it’s hot then touch it again, to see if you can do it without hurting yourself. You burn yourself. Every time I saw you, Svetlana Yevchenko, I burned.” He dropped her hair and touched her cheek instead. “I’m burning now.” She gave him her answer in her kiss. Hot, needy and passionate, she refused to let him take control this time. He’d babied her, bathed, and loved her. Now it was her turn. Starting with this. Her lips left his reluctantly, pulling away in increments, lingering for another taste. Darting out her tongue, she touched his mouth and then moved to his neck. Jasper stroked her, moving his hands over her body as if he wanted to reach every part of her at once. He moaned when she touched the sensitive hollow at the base of his neck then trailed her lips down to his nipples. She let her breasts touch his skin, shivering with every contact, teasing him with her hardened nipples and the soft skin surrounding them. When she licked across his nipple, then sucked it, his moans increased in volume and triumph filled her soul. She didn’t stop, wanting to taste all of him, just a little, find out the differences in texture and taste, explore him as she’d wanted to do for years. She’d first met him eight years ago, when she was a newbie to modeling, and she’d wanted to lick him then. His habitual, speck-free black clothes and his naturally tanned skin made her tongue ache just looking at him, but then she’d decided it was a sexual attraction, nothing more. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Now, with the object of her obsession under her she set out to enjoy herself. She’d waited a long time for this, and she wasn’t rushing anything.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

109

Honey and salt and a touch of something indefinable she couldn’t pin down. Maybe the taste was unique to Jasper. Her sound of appreciation resulted in more moans, when she licked around his navel, dipping in before moving on to the main course. She had every intention of kissing down to his toes and back, but when her head came level with his cock, she saw a bead of moisture at the tip, just begging for her to lick it. So of course she had to take his gift. It was so uniquely delicious, she had to have more. She closed her mouth around his cockhead and drew on it. Jasper arched off the bed with a low groan, thrusting more into her mouth, and she took it, as much as she could. His fingers tunneled into her hair and gripped handfuls, gaining purchase as she licked and sucked. Trailing her tongue down the large vein at the front gained her murmurs of appreciation from Jasper, and when she cupped his balls in one hand, he writhed, but her free hand on his thigh reminded him not to move too far. What was he thinking, how was she affecting him? His physical reaction gratified her, and his outer mind filled with sensuous submission, so she slid deeper inside. Adoration. No longer alone, not anymore. She felt Jasper’s loneliness. She’d always been free to love; she just hadn’t found it anywhere before. Jasper had held himself apart for years, centuries. Svetlana ached for him, wanted to make it all better just by her touch. “You do. All of it.” The coherence of his mind contrasted with the soft moans issuing from his mouth. He tasted wonderful, spicy and masculine, a taste she’d never get enough of. Angling her mouth over him, she tried deep throating him, not quite making it but enough to make his moans turn to cries of need, of wanting. Before she knew what he meant to do, he sat up, grabbed her under her arms, and dragged her back up his body. His mouth slightly open, his hair spread across the pillow in wild disarray, his eyes wild; she wanted him like this, ached for him. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought the Spanish fly was still inside her, but this was Jasper, only him. “I need --” he gasped. “Inside.” She let him hover her over his straining prick before plunging down. Not realizing how wet she was, she paused, but she felt no resistance until he was embedded to the hilt. Both groaned aloud. Planting her knees on either side of his waist, Svetlana sat up, never taking her gaze away from his. Never in all the time she’d known him had she imagined Jasper Lebec would look worshipfully at her, but he did now. “I adore you,” he murmured. “You’re my life. Never doubt it, never regret anything we have. Promise me.” “You want promises when we’re doing this?” His body tightened against the bed, and he pushed up, impaling her with hard, hot male. Her head went back, and she gasped her response. “I promise. I’ll try.”

110

Lynne Connolly

“Good enough.” He thrust again, and she felt her senses shatter. Sucking on him, having him at her mercy, heated her to simmering, and now he brought her to the boiling point. Deep, penetrating thrusts, his body in hers, his mind merged with hers, she burst into steaming heat. And felt the transformation begin. She pushed the feathers back, but this took her concentration away from her climax. “Let it happen, Svetlana.” His voice, though breathless, sounded contained and determined. Trusting him, she relaxed. Feathers burst through the skin of her arms, and she lifted them, spreading her wings wide. A burning spot on her thigh told her she’d released the tattoo, the symbol of what she was, what she was born to be. It meant she and Jasper were compatible, that she could use her one-shot conversion ability to make him what she was. Not that he would take it. Touching his mind, having him accept her so deeply inside him only made Svetlana realize just how powerful his Talents were. She didn’t doubt any of what he told her, not now, not when she saw and felt him surround her with love and infinite power. His energy thrummed through them both, electrified, and extended her climax until she saw stars, and then broke through them to infinity. She wasn’t aware she was screaming until she came back down again, to find his hands on her breasts, and her feathers gone. He was still embedded inside her. “Jasper, did you come?” “Oh yes.” His hands moved in a leisurely way over her breasts, returning to tweak her nipples and bring tiny nips of pain that he soothed away with caresses, something that added waves of sensation to her retreating, but not yet gone, orgasm. Her pussy contracted around his hard cock, and he took a sharp breath. “It doesn’t seem to have slowed me any. Svetlana, you’re beautiful, truly beautiful. I hadn’t realized before what being a firebird really meant. Will you take me up for a flight one day?” “Yes, of course. Can’t you fly?” Amusement curved his mouth and lit his eyes. “Not one of my attributes. I’ve flown on a dragon’s back, been flashed from one place to another in an instant by a vampire, even learned to flash for myself from time to time, but none of that matters. Not when I can take a flight with a real, live firebird.” “It’s the least I can do after you made me fly like you did just now. You did help, didn’t you?” He cupped her breasts in his hands. “I gave you some of my energy; that was all. You may keep it all, if you want it.” “I have a lot to learn about Ancients.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

111

With a sudden twist of his body, he turned her, so he was on top. “Not so much, darling. Not as much as I have to learn about firebirds and one in particular. Svetlana Yevchenko, I love you.” The only sound in the room was her breathless cries as he thrust into her, taking her up to heaven again.

112

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Fourteen They were sitting in the first-class section on a plane on their way to Paris when Jasper’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen and flipped it up to take the call. “Yes?” Jasper closed his phone and cuddled Svetlana close. “That was my secretary at the atelier. There’ll be some photographers at the airport. Do you want to do this as a couple?” She looked up at him, startled. “You want to go public? So soon?” “You bet.” He smiled when she touched her tongue to her lips. “Damn, woman, you’re so sexy I could fuck you right here.” “Could you?” “I could. And nobody here would remember a thing about it.” “Rather takes the kinkiness out of it, doesn’t it?” He chuckled, his chest shaking under her arm. “Yep. And believe me, I would shield you. I want you to myself. I don’t even want you to model the sheer items I’ve designed.” She stiffened, reminded of her job. The few days they’d snatched in his farmhouse had been a dream set apart from real life but now they were back to mundanity. “You should be dealing with that, your collection.” “Relax.” He tugged her back down. “I checked with the atelier yesterday, and everything’s on course. We’ll be ready. I pay a fortune for my machinists and pattern cutters, and this is why. I say go, they go, and I can trust them to get so far without my help. But I do need to get back for the final touches.” “The magic of Lebec.” “Hmm. I like that. I might just use it.” She smiled, lifting up to lean against his shoulder instead of his chest. “Feel free. Perhaps I should start a new career.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

113

“We’ll work something out.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, letting the loose strands fall against the light inside the cabin. “But we’re together now, Svetlana. So back to my question. It’s up to you. Do you want to go in as a couple or not? It’s August, and there isn’t much news about at this time of year, so they’ll leap at this morsel.” “You have most to lose, Jasper. You’ve never been linked so firmly with anyone before. So you choose, you decide. Either way, I won’t be hurt.” The steward’s voice crackled into life on the intercom, telling them all that they were beginning the descent into Paris. Nice to Paris was a baby flight, over almost as soon as it began. Svetlana got the feeling that real life was about to push its way into her idyll, and her chest tightened with fear. She couldn’t believe that everything had changed so much that this wouldn’t prove to be as transient as all her other affairs. A gut reaction, nothing more. But however long her affair with Jasper turned out to be, whether cut short by real life or by the fate Jasper dreaded, she knew it would change her life forever. They went in as a couple. Jasper took her hand, and the sprinkling of photographers who always hung about the VIP lounges and arrivals at Charles de Gaulle Airport gathered around, ready for the latest hot story. “Hey, Jasper, are you and Topaz an item?” was the main thrust of the questions, as they had been since their kiss at the couture show. Svetlana pasted on her cool, superior Topaz face and left the answers to Jasper. He wasn’t so communicative but answered a few questions. “She’s beautiful. She’s smart. What is there to dislike?” Jasper took her hand, linking their fingers. “But she is always Topaz and her own person.” Enough to tempt them into putting Jasper and Topaz in the papers in the morning. “Why are you here?” someone yelled. “To develop the Delirium line and attend to the prêt-à-porter show,” Jasper said. “I heard rumors you were changing your muse. Who’s it going to be?” Jasper brought their linked hands to his lips for an instant. “There is no one else. Topaz is my muse. She is beautiful, womanly, and she touches my soul.” A breathless pause ensued. That was the quotation they’d all use. And she was his muse again. Happiness suffused her, despite the difficult times ahead. With Jasper as a partner, there would always be difficult times, but together, they’d face it all. And defy it. Their hands still linked, Jasper led her out to the car waiting for them and to her apartment.

114

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Fifteen “You don’t have to do this,” Jasper said, glancing at Svetlana. Too old a hand to make her nervousness visible, she nonetheless inwardly quivered with fear. “I do. I won’t collapse, don’t worry.” Jasper dropped his bow tie and turned away from the mirror to settle his hands on her shoulders. “It’s only dinner.” “I know.” She moved closer for a kiss, but wouldn’t let him crush her close. “You’ll ruin this dress, Jasper, and it’s one of your best.” “You think I care?” “I think you will care.” She stepped back and regarded herself critically in the fulllength mirror of his elaborate bedroom. He’d mussed her hair, but otherwise her makeup remained in place and the slim, blue silk sheath remained creaseless. “Are you sure I can sit down in this thing?” He glanced at her and grinned. “It’s bias cut. And, if I may say so, a masterpiece of the dressmaker’s art.” “Not that you made it, Jasper.” Gentle teasing, she found, was something Jasper enjoyed. He didn’t take himself as seriously as many designers on the circuit, though he put just as much into his designs as Galliano or Lacroix. “I could.” She remembered. She’d seen him work on one of the industrial sewing machines in the atelier, designing freestyle embroidery for his “action” collection a few years ago. Almost frightening control. He brought the same level of concentration to that as he did when he drove one of his performance cars, or when he was making love to her. She could forgive him anything for that.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

115

And he was right about the gown. Celestial blue, with a design of white ivy spiraling up to blossom under her breasts, the gown was one of the first in Jasper’s new pro-curves collection. She loved it. He came up behind her and threw a wrap over her shoulders, white silk gauze with the ivy design in blue. Then he clasped a silver necklace in place, with the same ivy design, leaves strung together and an asymmetrical pendant of larger, diamondsprinkled leaves. Her hand came up to cover his. “You’ve designed things for me before, Jasper, but somehow this is different.” “I designed this for you. You, Svetlana, nobody else. The gowns you wore before were to sell. You were the woman who showed them off the best; that’s all. I’ll still do that, but I want to design for you as well, Svetlana the woman. You don’t have to show this off to anyone.” He paused and dropped a kiss on her throat before he moved away to the mirror over the vanity. He’d left his bow tie undone, but in a few deft movements he tied it perfectly. “Ready?” “Yes, I’m ready.” At least this was something she was used to. What she wasn’t used to was leaving Jasper’s apartment on his arm, and for the press waiting outside to know they were a couple. At least for now. In this fickle world of changepartners, their liaison was news of the gossipy kind. Since Jasper had been sure to tip off the press, the media waited outside for the twin thrills of seeing Lebec with an acknowledged partner, and a peek at the new line. Prêt-àporter collections were kept under strict security until the show. This sneak preview was something new. Not that the gown contained more than a hint of what was to come. The bias cut was the clue, the style that helped to make Jean Harlow famous, derived from one of the greatest couturiers of all time, Madeleine Vionnet. Bias cuts were more fluid, revealed more curves and molded the body. Jasper wore his trademark black suit, the mandarin-collared jacket lined in the same blue silk as her gown, in an unspoken signal that they were a couple. Svetlana wondered just how many people would notice. Strangely, she found the chaos outside comforting, a reminder of her old life. Normality for Topaz was flashing cameras and shouted questions, standing and posing without making the pose too obvious. She could do all that in her sleep, but she owed Jasper a lot more. So she smiled, and answered the questions they’d agreed on. “Are you a couple, Topaz?” A slight nod and a turn of her body to let the fabric softly embrace her. “When did you get together?” “Sometime.” “You’re living together?” “When’s the wedding?” “Is he good in bed?”

116

Lynne Connolly

“Where does this leave Hugo Berthier?” “Mostly. We haven’t thought about it. Yes…” with a slight blush and, “He’s a good friend.” While Jasper fended, “Are you going for pastels this year?” “What are all these rumors about retiring?” “If you’ve taken Topaz from him, won’t Berthier cancel the perfume contract?” She hadn’t thought about that last one. Hugo could be vindictive if he wanted, and he hated anyone besting him. They’d find out soon enough. After answering a few questions, no more than three, Jasper led Svetlana to the waiting limousine. This was a public occasion. Planned as a public reconciliation after the disaster at the yacht and a chance to reconnect and resume the operation. Whether Berthier realized it or not, his precious perfume factory was going down. Now all they had to do was finalize the details and discover if Hugo Berthier was a danger to the Talented community. They met at the Charlois restaurant in the Champs-Élysées, hardly a place for discreet dining. Paparazzi always hung around outside, but tonight the usual sprinkling was considerably amplified, thanks to Jasper’s excellent PR. The maitre d’ waited just inside the doors, but Jasper took Svetlana straight through, ignoring the massed press. At one point someone jostled Topaz. Once, Svetlana would have thought Jasper’s instant fury was for the dress she wore, but with his mind resting in hers, she knew better. All his concern was for her. “Stand back.” He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to. Thinking they had discovered a weak spot, that they might be able to provoke a scene, the man who’d jostled her by accident moved closer for another, more deliberate attempt. He sprang away with a surprised yell. “She Tazered me!” Svetlana opened her arms, which incidentally showed the gown to good advantage. “How could I? I have nothing to do such a thing with!” It wasn’t unknown for photographers of the more aggressive kind to prosecute celebrities after goading them beyond bearing. Sometimes the attacks were real; sometimes they were the result of constant provocation. Either way, the resultant publicity was rarely good. The other photographers laughed, and Jasper used the confusion to usher Svetlana into the restaurant, a hand firmly resting against the small of her back. He leaned forward to touch his lips to her ear. “That was naughty.” “He might have spoiled the gown. And that’s what you want me for, Jasper, isn’t it, to show off your wonderful designs?” It said a lot that she felt safe to tease him in that way. The Jasper of old could have agreed with her, or perhaps walked off and left her, but this Jasper merely nuzzled her ear, murmuring, “You’re deluded, woman,” before moving away to address the maitre d’.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

117

He took them straight to the table where Hugo Berthier stood waiting, Louise on one side of him and Elaine on the other. It could almost be the dining room in the yacht, except this time Jasper was on his home ground, and he’d made sure Svetlana was the best dressed woman at the table, even if Louise wore her most recent Lebec. Their ostensible reason for visiting Paris was Louise’s fittings, but Elaine stood quietly smiling on Hugo’s other side. Jasper’s gaze flicked over them all, and he nodded to the ladies before accepting Hugo’s hand. Hugo regarded Jasper and Svetlana for a fraught moment, and Svetlana wasn’t sure what Jasper would do. He was in Lebec’s persona, deliberately in public, so his freedom of action was limited. If Hugo insulted Jasper, he would be forced to leave, which might make their aim of discovering more that much more difficult. Hugo’s first words shocked Svetlana. “You love her.” Jasper met Hugo’s level stare with one of his own. “I do.” It sounded like a vow. “Then I forgive you.” Hugo’s face broke into one of his sudden smiles, a flash of sunshine in a thundercloud of a face, and he sat, motioning for Jasper to do the same. “Nothing else you could have said would have appeased me.” Jasper opened his mouth, but Hugo didn’t stop. “I was crazy about Topaz. One of the most beautiful women I ever saw. When you took her that day, I fully expected you to bring her back, but I understand now why you didn’t. You’re forgiven.” The waiter arrived, holding the menus. Jasper waved him away. “Hugo, Louise gave Svetlana something that could have killed her. She needed rest and peace to recover.” Louise shot Svetlana a skeptical glance. “She looks well enough now. Is that the new gown I heard about?” She looked Svetlana up and down as if she were a dressmaker’s dummy, with no more feeling than one. “Stand up and turn around, Topaz. I want to see if I wish to order one.” Louise’s crassness hadn’t changed, then. “This is Svetlana’s and hers alone.” Svetlana blinked at Jasper. He put his hand over hers, where it lay on the table, preventing her from speaking. “There will be others, Louise, but not this one.” Louise’s upper lip twitched, as if about to curl into a sneer, but she picked up her napkin instead, and shook it out with a sharp snap. “That shade of blue isn’t my color, in any case. Keep the gown, Svetlana.” “I have every intention of doing so.” “May I order? I would like you to be my guests tonight.” Hardly waiting for Hugo’s response, Jasper lifted his finger for the waiter, who hurried across at once. “Gelé de bulot

aux langues d’oursin, Suprême de Géline cuit sur l'os, et Pigeonneau avec Blettes cuisinées aux lardon, pailles de pommes de terre.” The waiter moved away. “What did you order?” Louise demanded. “It sounded like urchins?”

118

Lynne Connolly

“Délicieux,” Jasper assured her, at his most French. “You will enjoy it. A wonderful concoction of sea urchins to start, then pigeon to follow, and grouse. A specialty of the house.” Louise said nothing, after glancing around the table. “Will I enjoy it?” Elaine asked quietly. “I believe you will,” Jasper replied, his tone gentled for her. “If you don’t, then you must order something else.” The Berthiers wouldn’t do that, he knew, because they didn’t want to appear gauche or unfashionable. Food had its fashions, too. The wine waiter responded to Jasper’s request with alacrity, as well he should, since the wine he ordered was the finest. Elaine’s sunny smile was his response. “I’m learning a lot about food in France.” She shot Louise a tentative smile. “And other things, too.” Her pose as American ingénue flattered Louise’s ego perfectly. Elaine might be short on years, but she was long on experience. Svetlana liked her. She was an asset to the Department. Louise’s responding nod was most definitely patrician. Svetlana’s admiration for Elaine grew. She’d allowed Louise to take the lead, deferred to her, though perhaps only Svetlana knew how difficult that could be. But the domineering Louise was always more comfortable in control of any situation, and hopefully that would enable Elaine to get under her guard and discover what she needed to. Elaine’s next communication was telepathic as the waiter brought a selection of amuses for them to sample, little bites of savory nonsense. Svetlana thought Louise might prod them to see if Jasper had arranged for any unpleasant surprises, but Jasper gave her a bland smile and took a scallop. “I have some information for you. I’m sure this is the real deal.” Coming from Elaine, Svetlana was sure, too. A surge of relief filled her. She wanted nothing more than this assignment done and Hugo Berthier dealt with. Jasper’s next communication was for Elaine. “Where is Dubreis? He had orders not to leave you alone.” “He got himself put on Hugo’s security detail. He’s waiting in the car. He only allowed

me here on my own because he knew you were coming. He’ll remain with me until you tell us to leave.” “Good.” Svetlana felt Jasper’s spike of anxiety subside. No longer jealous of Elaine, she could appreciate the care for all the agents on his watch. “I’ve transferred some papers to the Department that confirm Berthier’s involvement

with the manufacture of Solution X. I know where he keeps the plans for the factory, and I’ll get them too.” “How long will that take you ?” A pause ensued, while Elaine worked it out. “No more than a week, I think.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

119

“Can you leave him to meet with us ?”

The “us” warmed Svetlana immeasurably. She was part of an “us.”

“I think so, yes. I’ll send word.”

The first course arrived, and Svetlana set herself to enjoy it, and watched Louise

struggle through three courses, which Jasper had chosen for their esoteric qualities and their difficulty. Some required special cutlery, some manual dexterity. Louise managed rather badly, and only picked at each course. Hugo, after tasting and rejecting the first, enjoyed the other two, and although he ate without finesse, his enthusiasm made up for his lack of skill in deboning the grouse. He had an entirely French attitude to food -- a hearty appetite and an appreciation for fine cuisine. Jasper quietly saw that Svetlana had everything she needed, without swamping her with attention. If this was what life with him was going to be like, she prayed for a long continuation. “As do I.”

120

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Sixteen Back at Jasper’s apartment, Svetlana sat on one of the leather sofas and waited for Jasper to finish a phone call to his accountant. The sofa was as soft as butter, comfortable, and easy to sit in, despite its formal appearance, and she found herself drifting. So many things had happened recently, a whirlwind of changes, and she still had to catch up with it all. How would they manage their affair? Her job took her all over the world, and his was firmly based here in Paris. Svetlana loved her job; she didn’t want to give it up. She loved Jasper. If he asked, she’d give up everything for him. He made her feel special, precious, as no one else had ever made her feel before. A lowering thought, that she’d give it all up for him. “I’d never ask that of you.” How long had he stood there? She hadn’t even felt his intrusion, floating in her world of dreams. Jasper stripped off his jacket and threw it over the other sofa, narrowly missing an African bust lodged on the side table next to it. Then he sat down next to her and scooped her up to sit on his lap. Tilting up her chin with two fingers, he kissed her, long and sweetly. When their lips parted, he snared her in his gaze. “Svetlana, I love you. I won’t ask you to give anything up, or be any less than you are but we’ll find a way. I swear it. Promise me you’ll tell me the minute you want me. And I’ll prove to you that you’re the most important person in my life.” “I promise.” Her speculations were partly brought on by fatigue, partly by the fate that haunted her night and day. She was beginning to understand why Jasper thought he was the fortunate one. “I don’t want to part, Jasper. I don’t want to leave you, but how can we manage?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

121

“We’ll find a way. I have been thinking about it.” He kissed her again briefly, but his lips clung as if he was reluctant to separate them. “I want to put a proposal to you.” She caught her breath, but she daren’t even think about that. They were so attuned, he’d pick up any thoughts. “You’re my muse, my inspiration. You know that. And you know I’m slowly moving into accessories and cosmetics, as well as perfumes.” She nodded. “I also want to ease off on the designing.” Her eyes widened in shock, and he smiled, touching his lips to hers once more. “I’m looking for an apprentice, someone I could trust to carry on the spirit of the house. I only thought about it recently, when I realized how tired I am of the life. I want more time to myself, but if I don’t design the requisite number of shows every year, I lose my couture license. I don’t want to do that. So I’m planning to attend a number of student shows next year, and I’ve let a few colleagues know I plan to step back. It won’t happen for a few years yet, because I need to train him or her, and there’s no guarantee that the first person I take will understand, but I’ll take a few people.” “A TV special?” she asked, amusement taking her. “A new apprentice for the House of Jasper?” His mouth curved when he caught her amusement. “No.” But she caught the words he held back. Over my dead body. No sense in thinking about that now. They couldn’t change anything. “So how does that affect me?” She was being deliberately obtuse, forcing him to explain. “That means I’ll have more time for you. For us.” His arm around her back tightened and he brought her to him for another kiss. “Did you know you taste of strawberries?” “Nobody told me that before.” He chuckled. “I’m told that nobody else has my refinement of taste.” He kissed her before she could protest but this time he opened her mouth with a flick of his tongue. Locked with him like this, he filled her world. He tasted her deeply before he withdrew and smiled into her eyes. “I thought you might like to undertake more work for Lebec. You could be the signature model for the perfume and the cosmetics line.” “What about the accessories?” “Don’t push your luck.” She snuggled in closer, chuckling. That would help. But would Jasper be happy reducing his interests? “With you, yes, I would.” He kissed her forehead, her cheekbone and finally her mouth in a teasing, fluttering caress that left her wanting more. Before he melted her with his attentions, she tried to bring the meeting to order. “Did you enjoy the dinner?”

122

Lynne Connolly

He drew away a little, a grimace crossing his face. “No. Louise hit on me relentlessly throughout the whole meal. You must have noticed. Hugo Berthier is more gentlemanly, at least in public. But I found out what I needed to discover.” “Which was?” “Louise is the instigator of the plan to make Solution X. Quick profit and a link to the people she wants. She doesn’t understand Talents but she knows they are people of power and she wants some for herself. She sourced the chemicals they need for Solution X and she runs the experimental unit at the Grasse factory. I need to locate her contacts but I’m ready to shut the factory down. She is more than a control freak, she’s a control obsessive. Hugo has done very well recently and he’s discussing expanding his business with some new business partners, who don’t include Louise. He’s preparing for independence, maybe divorce. She knew Hugo didn’t need her any more, so she was trying to set up a new, lucrative business that was hers alone. Her own particular brand of expertise.” “Did she set the blocks and mazes in Hugo’s mind?” “Yes.” His mouth firmed into a grim line. “Louise is a sensitive. She thinks she’s a powerful witch. She has considerable gifts, considering she hasn’t trained properly. I suspect she’s a latent Sorcerer. I’m not surprised Elaine couldn’t read her, because her mind’s a maze of confusion and blocks, deliberately designed to confuse. She tried to control me, to seduce me by telling me telepathically that I wanted to make love to her. All she did was let me further into her mind.” He grimaced in distaste. “I read her and left.” “You didn’t have to seduce her before, in Juan-les-Pins?” His consequent pause alarmed her. “Did you?” Svetlana swallowed her distaste. This meant the lives of hundreds of vampires around the world, so if he had to do it, then that was a necessary act. Nothing was more important than that, she told herself, but she didn’t believe it. “No, I didn’t. And I won’t. I can’t.” He stroked her arm. “It’s the first time I’ve put my own concerns above the Department’s, and I’m not sorry. I want you, Svetlana. I’ve wanted you for years. Now I have you, I’m not doing anything that will cause you any unhappiness.” Their mouths met, and this time he took her into the furnace. She went willingly. What else was a firebird to do? When he stood, he lifted her with him and carried her through to the bedroom. Not the one they usually used, the simple one, but the elaborate, gilt and black affair with its huge canopied bed. He laid her down. “I thought this room was just for show,” she said. “I’ve used it a couple of times,” he murmured. Never taking his eyes off her, he stripped out of his shirt and dropped it carelessly on the floor. “It seems appropriate. This is a room designed for a queen, and you’re a queen, Svetlana. My queen.” She wasn’t used to such extravagant compliments from Jasper, so she sat up and began to undress, embarrassed to meet his eyes. The bright blue of the dress made an interesting contrast against the black bedcover, embroidered with gold and red dragons. It meant she could avoid looking at him for the moment it took her to regain her composure.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

123

“You forget, my sweet,” he said. “We live in each other now.” “I do forget sometimes.” Jasper leaned forward and reached around her to unclip her bra. “You’re so good at telepathy, sometimes I can’t feel you in my mind, as I can other Talents,” Svetlana told him. She pulled down the cover, kicking it free of her feet, revealing the crisp, ivory colored sheets and comforter. He stopped her with a hand on her ankle. He sat on the edge of the bed, totally naked now, his erection a bold statement. “I’ve had more practice. And I’m more attuned to you than to anyone else.” “Have we bonded, Jasper?” Bonding was usually voluntary, though it could happen when a couple was so well blended that it was a natural process. The implications for Jasper and Svetlana were more serious, because a bonded couple shared their lives and their deaths. He stroked her calf, watching his hand. “No. We can’t, Svetlana. We can’t avoid our destiny that way.” “Are you sure?” “It’s been tried.” With those brief words, the last of her hope died. Jasper wasn’t a superstitious man, nor did he put his credence in anything he couldn’t prove or believe. He wouldn’t have told her this if he wasn’t sure. She had to believe him and begin to accept her fate. Had to. “Jasper, kiss me.” Badly needing reassurance and love, this was the first time she’d shown him her vulnerability. Open and raw, she throbbed for him. Not just his love, his mind, but his body and his desire. His eyes blazed with understanding and need and he joined her on the bed, stretching his long body next to hers and nestling close, so all of him touched all of her. His cock reared between them, prodding her in the stomach, his chest muscles nudged her breasts, and his legs entwined with hers. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, the old-fashioned gesture entirely typical of him. “That’s not what I meant.” “I know.” He smiled wickedly at her and kissed her briefly on her lips, before pulling back. “And that was just the first.” He pushed her shoulder until she lay on her back, then lifted up and kissed her again, this time a little more deeply. But when she tried to sit up, he restrained her with a hand on her shoulder. “You wanted to be kissed, Svetlana. Then lie there and take it. I’m going to kiss you.”

124

Lynne Connolly

A shudder went through her when she realized what he meant. Jasper laughed and reached behind him to loosen the tie fastening his hair back. It flowed around his shoulders, black and shining in the soft lighting. He slid his hand down to the indentation of her waist and leaned over to kiss her breast. She gasped in response as he kissed all around her areole, before swiping his tongue over her nipple, just once. “Jasper!” Already she felt her slit dampening, and her nipple peaked for him. “So pretty,” he murmured. “And you taste so good.” “What do I taste like, Jasper?” He purred, low in his throat. “I told you. Strawberries. Strawberries and you. If I could bottle this, I’d make a fortune.” “Another one?” “Uh-huh.” He returned to her breast and kissed his way over to the other nipple. This time he tongued her first and smiled at her sharp cry, before kissing the underside of her breast, lifting its fullness with his tongue to run it over the crease at the base. From there, he touched her breastbone and the dip in the middle of her chest, tracing the ribs with light touches of his fingers, raising her sensitivity. She wanted him, but she loved this attention. His tongue rimmed her navel before tasting it and then passing down lower, to kiss her groin. When he touched his lips to the indentation inside one hip, she squirmed. How could he find new places? But he did. Unless it was just his magic. He licked her and kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her taste. Then he lifted his head and flicked the hair out of his eyes. “Either you get a good grip on those bedposts, or I tie you to them. I want to taste you, Svetlana, deep and long, and I don’t want to stop. Promise to let me?” She could understand why he wanted her promise, because the last time he’d tongued her she’d been too impatient to wait. Every time his body entered hers surpassed the last. “You mean I’m too greedy for your cock?” “You want my cock? If you’re really good, I might give it to you. But you have to be good.” He licked his lips, and she shuddered. “Okay,” she whispered, barely a thread of sound, but he heard it. “Lie still, bébé, and I’ll make you happy.” “You already do.” He kissed her other hip and then made his way down to her groin, but he didn’t kiss more than the pubic bone and then her inner thigh. He paused to breathe deep, taking in her intimate scent before blowing hot air over her clit.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

125

He was tempting her beyond bearing. Wanting him, she moaned when she remembered her promise. Jasper moved down to her knees, kissing the backs where her skin was soft and sensitive. “It’s soft everywhere, ma chérie,” he told her, reaching up with his hands to caress the top of her thighs. She found another sensitive area when he moved on to her toes, tonguing between each one until she wriggled them in delight. When he moved back up to her knees, then her thighs, she found he’d sensitized every part of her body. “Turn over.” She obeyed him, lying on her stomach. “Open your legs.” He waited and then said, in a harder tone, “Wider. Oh yes. I can see everything, Svetlana. Your clit, your ass, and your beautiful pussy. It weeps for me.” A gush of liquid escaped her at his words, and he moaned in response. A breath of air was all the warning she had before he was on her, lapping her wetness, drinking her up. His tongue slid up her crease. “Jasper?” “Shhh. I’m in your mind. If you’re not sure, I’ll know. Let me.” She let him. At first, the new sensations were a little too much for her to register, but then his tongue traveled up her crease to circle her opening. “Oh! Jasper!” He kissed each buttock before trailing his tongue up her spine, following the line of the chills he’d driven up there and ending just behind her ear. “On your back,” he murmured and she turned over, expecting him to fuck her. But he didn’t. Instead he glided down her body, keeping his body into contact with hers and tasted her, inserting his tongue for a brief instant inside her. It flickered and was gone, almost before she had time to moan. “Kiss,” he whispered, sending hot air over her clit. Then he suited word to deed and took it into his mouth, lavishing the already wet nub with heat and moisture. His mouth busy, he used his telepathy. “You want my cock now ?” “Oh yes. Please, darling.” Without taking his mouth off her clit, he turned his body. The swiveling movement sent her into ecstasy but she wasn’t quite there. But when his cock came into view, bobbing in front of her face, she grabbed it and dragged it to her panting mouth. He groaned when she licked the weeping tip, greedily absorbing his taste. Salt and Jasper. She knew exactly what he meant when he said she tasted of strawberries and Svetlana. His taste was unique, one she’d know anywhere, anytime. One she’d want all the time. She circled her tongue around the broad, rounded head, kissing him and delivering tiny nips that made him flinch, then came back for more. And all the time he licked and sucked her clit, driving her higher. She kissed down the length of his cock, savoring every

126

Lynne Connolly

inch, and sucked his balls, taking one into her mouth and then the other, before kissing back up to the tip and taking him fully into her mouth. His momentary hesitation told her how much that affected him, and his low groan confirmed it. He dove inside, running his tongue along the groove between her clit and her opening, and this time he French kissed her, making it long and luxurious. With his cock to suck on, Svetlana squirmed, but Jasper didn’t relent until she dipped her tongue into the tiny slit at the end. He jerked back as if struck by lightning, leaving her soaking wet and wanting more. “Now.” He separated her legs and pushed her on to her back, all tenderness banished. When he reared over her, his hair tangled around his face, she thought she’d never seen him so handsome, so alive, but she was wrong. Because when he drove into her, his eyes sparkled like never before, seeming to glow in his face. But it was still Jasper, still the man -- or Ancient -- that she loved. “Magic,” he said, driving right inside her. “You feel like magic, Svetlana.” His hard, urgent thrusts pushed her to arch her back and reach for him, but he leaned over her and twined his hands with hers, palm to palm, pinning them above her head. He became all primitive, the sophisticate gone to release the barbarian that lurked inside the elegant body, all power, all male. Even his sweat smelled masculine, his chest hair damp with his exertions. Every shove into her body raised the music of wet flesh against wet flesh, the rhythmic slap of their coming together a harmony she wanted to hear repeatedly. “Never stop, Jasper. Keep going!” “Never!” His mouth came down on hers, crushing her head into the pillow, taking her with the same primitive intensity as his cock, fucking her pussy and her mouth, the ruthless drives of his tongue working in counterpoint to his thrusts below. Her breasts connected with his chest, the little chills of air marking their rhythm. Her clit felt extra sensitive after the series of little climaxes he’d given her, but now she felt a bigger one grow deep inside. It started as a warm spark, somewhere below her navel, where his cock worked her, touching her G-spot every time he moved, a spot he’d teased and coaxed into sensitivity before demanding it work for him. Oh how it worked! Only then did she recognize what he was doing inside her mind. He’d suppressed any large orgasms then given them back, as fuel for the big one building inside her. The heat grew, spreading until she didn’t think she could bear it anymore, and then like a long fuse leading to a bundle of dynamite, sparked faster and nearer. Svetlana’s scream reverberated around the beautiful room, closely followed by Jasper’s full-throated yell, and hot seed pumped deep inside her. She felt every spurt, and she brought her arms around his back to hold him close. Blinking, she opened her eyes and stared at him, unaware of passing time. But the room was dimmer now, and she realized he’d lowered the lighting. His eyes gleamed silver,

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

127

with a touch of green. Where had the green come from? The sheets were ivory, the color scheme black and gold with a touch of red. No green. His fingers feathered her face, softly and lovingly. He was still inside her but softer now, although not completely flaccid. As she stirred, it twitched. “Jasper,” she whispered. “Now that,” he said, “is the way to behave in a beautiful room.” “Like savages?” “Exactly.” His eyes widened. “You thought that was savage?” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Just wait, lady. We have a long night ahead of us. There’s plenty of time yet to show you what savage really means.”

128

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Seventeen Svetlana didn’t think meeting in the Louvre was the best idea Jasper had ever had, but once she’d dressed, like him, in jeans and T-shirt, tied her hair back in a ponytail, and changed her makeup, she hardly needed to fuzz at all to disguise her presence. Elaine found them in the Assyrian department. Virgilio followed shortly after. They stared at a stone tablet engraved with pictures of men in long robes and elaborate beards. “We were followed, but I got rid of them,” the vampire said. “I’m scanning the area, so we’re reasonably safe.” Jasper nodded. “Good. I’m scanning too. There are quite a few Talents here today.” Murmurs of English came from behind them as a couple stopped to study the tablet. Their group moved on, for all appearances two couples. Elaine and Virgilio made a handsome couple, even if she was a little short for him, but the way he bent over her in a seemingly unconscious gesture of protection looked natural. Her dark, delicate beauty went well with his powerful presence. They stopped when they entered one of the more academic areas, with cases of stone tablets and writing. Definitely more for scholars. “I concur with Elaine,” Virgilio said, staring at the tablet in the case in front of him. “We need to take the place down. Elaine traced shipments of two of the three main ingredients for Solution X going there.” “How did she do that?” Jasper asked. Virgilio shot Elaine a smiling glance. “The old-fashioned way. Computer hacking. I kept Louise and Hugo out of the way while Elaine got busy with Louise’s laptop at the hotel. We took copies.” “I sent a team to the factory to try to infiltrate it and managed to get them in as casual labor,” Jasper said. “They made it in a couple of days ago. The security checks are fierce, but with the help of the Government, we persuaded Tambala to take them.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

129

“Nothing casual about some of the people you sent in,” Svetlana said. Jasper barked a sharp laugh. Three people strolling through the gallery in search of more interesting exhibits turned at the exit to stare at him. “I did what I could. I didn’t have much time.” “Who did you send?” Virgilio asked mildly. “Sangret, Hoskins, and Ponsonby. The only ones with the kind of credentials that factory would accept for temporary laborers.” “Fuck!” was Virgilio’s admiring response. “Interesting combination.” “They’ll get the job done,” Jasper said. Virgilio stared at the etched symbols on the Assyrian tablet, his eyes scanning the lines as he read it. “Well, I never knew that!” “I don’t think the museum knows it,” Jasper said dryly, consulting the information on the small plaque next to the exhibit. “It says ‘Script in a variation of Akkadian and Chaldean neo-Aramaic. Untranslated.’ Don’t spoil their fun, Dubreis.” “Wouldn’t want that.” The vampire straightened and moved on to the next piece. As he passed Jasper, Svetlana noticed they were the same height. Both appeared on the surface to be civilized and urbane, but without too much imagination, she could see them circling each other like fighting tigers. She was glad they were on the same side. Jasper went inside himself, his gaze frighteningly intent, but Svetlana knew him now. Jasper was thinking. Fast. She left him to his much-needed isolation and drew Elaine away. “Is Hugo good to you? He’s not hurting you?” Elaine shook her head, her dark hair waving around her piquant face. “If he wasn’t developing a poison that could kill, I’d say he was charming. I like him. I pretended to be ill yesterday when they went out for lunch so I could get at the laptop, and Hugo’s concern was quite touching.” Svetlana remembered back to a time when she thought Hugo was charming, too. If it wasn’t for Jasper, she’d probably still think it. “How about Louise?” Elaine shrugged. “A control freak. She hasn’t too much imagination, though, so what she asks me to do is bearable. I can’t say I like her.” “Elaine, I’m sorry I had to bail out. I should have returned --” A smile curled Elaine’s full lips. “No, you shouldn’t. That was the last thing you should have done. Jasper Lebec is key to the Department in France, and you’re keeping him happy. More than happy. I feel his joy in you and yours in him. We’re managing very well without you, Svetlana, so never think you’re irreplaceable.” Her smile mitigated any sting her words might hold.

130

Lynne Connolly

Svetlana felt Jasper come up behind her. When he slid his arm around her waist, she felt complete. “We have the factory now, Elaine, so you and Dubreis aren’t needed for the undercover work much longer. I want you out of there by the weekend.” Svetlana felt Elaine’s shock, and then she received a message deep down in the channel only she and Jasper shared. “She’s falling in love, or lust, with Hugo Berthier. I need to get her out.” Shock and sympathy in equal measure filled Svetlana. That was always a risk when going undercover, and Hugo was a handsome man with an appealing manner. Rich and powerful didn’t hurt, either. She understood how easy it would be to fall for the goodlooking millionaire. Jasper’s resultant pang of jealousy, gone almost as soon as she felt it, made her realize viscerally what Jasper had endured when she’d been with Hugo. He must have gone through hell. She forgave him for sending her to Hugo, knowing his punishment had been more severe than she’d imagined. To see the woman he loved leave him after one passionate night together, go to another man, and to be the cause of her leaving, must have eaten at him like a canker. “You may forgive me. I’ll never forgive myself for doing that to you.” “You have to, Jasper.” He didn’t give her an answer but squeezed her waist before letting her go. “I’ve led the Berthiers to believe that the new perfume line and maybe more will be theirs for the asking, in order to keep them sweet. They should realize from my business patterns how I work. I never give a supplier complete control unless they offer something I can’t get elsewhere.” His shrug nudged Svetlana, but he wouldn’t let her move away, drawing her close again. She realized he was edgy, almost nervous. He needed her. The thought touched her, but she respected his privacy and didn’t show by word or gesture that she knew of his need. Jasper turned to business, another trait he used to disguise his inner feelings. “Dubreis and I will work on the plans of the factory and develop a takedown plan. This will be clean and fast.” Elaine murmured her acceptance and strolled elegantly away from them. “She has one more night, maybe two, and then if she finds that Berthier is complicit in the development of Solution X, I’ll take him in.” “Where?” He moved his face into her neck, for comfort and to hide his words from the couple just entering the dimly lit gallery. “You know where.” She did. A building near to the Pére-Lachaise cemetery, a nondescript office block, contained a secure facility belonging to the Department. A place where agents could question prisoners, where Sorcerers could strip the minds of the people who sought to

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

131

destroy them, cleanse their memories of the intent or even knowledge that Talents existed. When she thought of this facility, Svetlana’s mind instinctively shied away, but she forced herself to face it this time. Jasper ran that facility. He confronted those people, the needs engendered by the Talents who wanted to live in peace. He came to terms with the uglier side of staying alive and secret. Therefore she should share that, too. For him. He caught her train of thought. These days, they rarely remained apart, their minds linked almost involuntarily, so threads of her thoughts moved into his mind and vice versa. “I don’t ask that of you,” he murmured. “I would never ask it.” She turned and put her arms around his waist. Her finger eased up his T-shirt to touch his skin. “I don’t expect you to, but I’ll share it. You’ll come home sometimes, tired and badtempered, and I want to be able to ease your pain. How can I do that, when you don’t share with me? You expect me to share my pain… God, Jasper, what you’ve done for me! I want to do that with you. Will you let me?” He gazed at her, his eyes dark in the atmospheric lighting. “Since you put it like that, how can I do anything else?” Neither spoke of the shadow that crossed their lives, a shadow as real as the ones in the corners of this peaceful, dimly lit chamber that held the secrets of a race long dead.

132

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Eighteen Their diligence at the atelier, plus the extra work toward the fast-approaching factory takedown, left Svetlana and Jasper exhausted enough to fall into bed each evening and only make love once a night. Spending this time with Jasper was a joy Svetlana would never forget. They didn’t look to the future, only lived for the present. The man behind the cold, hard exterior proved to be a loving, considerate companion, but one thing remained constant; Jasper had no patience. His exacting, meticulous presence went a long way to explain why the House of Lebec became one of the richest and most important fashion houses in France in such a short time. Other houses, like Dior and Givenchy, dated back half a century or more, but Lebec’s was barely fifteen years old and still growing. She saw the rate at which he worked, how he came home from a day of draping, cutting, and supervising at the atelier, the devoted Madame Morel at his side, to sketch and work toward the collection to be unveiled in March next year, the next couture collection. “You should do one a year,” she said once, only to meet his incredulous stare. “And lose my standing in the Ministry of Industry? I have to do those shows to earn the haute couture label. Although couture isn’t very profitable these days, everything else springs from it. Otherwise I’d just become another label, another commercial rip-off.” She crossed the room to him. Tonight they were in her apartment. His had been besieged by press every night since their public appearance at the restaurant and was too blatantly public for discretion. So they used hers, which had two entrances, one of them very discreet. Jasper liked her large living room with its view over the Seine to the Louvre and unlike his perfect setting, her apartment was a home, with furniture she liked, cheap and expensive mingling together, in colors she liked, rather than being fashionable and

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

133

expensive. He’d set up a draughtsman’s table in the bedroom where he worked most nights, after they returned from the atelier, preferring the light there, he said. “Does that matter?” “It does.” He swung his swivel chair away from his work and took her hand, stroking her fingers as if he found inspiration there. “I won’t be just a brand. Many large organizations have offered me very good deals just to use my name, but what of it? I already have enough money to last me two lifetimes, probably three. But when I’m born again, it will be to a different family, a different set of circumstances. My new persona won’t remember anything until puberty, and by then, times will have moved on. So what do I need to strive for? In this life, it’s beauty and perfection and the happy knowledge that I’ll never achieve it.” “You know that? Why should that be happy?” “Because if I ever found it, I’d have nothing left to do.” He smiled up at her, his face showing only tranquil contentment. “Besides, I don’t believe in ultimate perfection.” “How can you not believe it?” He drew her closer and slipped his arms around her waist. “With you here, it’s more difficult. But man’s idea of perfection changes.” “Like the seasons.” “Exactly. Perfection is transitory. As soon as it’s achieved, the standard for perfection changes, so people can begin to strive for it all over again.” He gazed up at her and rested his head on her breasts. “You’re perfect for me.” “But if you weren’t facing this fate, you’d move on?” “Nothing is impossible. But this is as near to impossible as it’s possible to get. I’m not infallible, and I’ve made my share of mistakes.” “So have I.” “One of my worst was to send you to Berthier. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for doing that.” She stroked his hair. “I understand.” “That’s more than I do. I didn’t have you to send you to him; I could have sent you anywhere. But I prostituted you.” He hushed her protests. “I put you through that for no reason.” “No. Not no reason. I discovered how much I love you.” Her hand tightened in his hair. It still seemed like a dream sometimes, that he was here, and he said he loved her, and she could tell him without him turning away. “In the usual course of events, fucking Berthier would be no hardship. He’s a handsome man, he’s fit, and he’s rich. He’s attractive. His kinkier activities don’t harm anyone. But he wasn’t you, Jasper. He wasn’t you. I’ve spent years making love to different men, looking for the perfection that you say doesn’t exist.” She smoothed down his hair. “But it does, Jasper. For me it does. I love you. I’ll always love you.” “And I you.” He got to his feet, his work forgotten, and folded her in his arms, holding her close to his heart. “Always, Svetlana. When I’m reborn, I’ll remember you. The man who

134

Lynne Connolly

holds my memories won’t have my love for you, but it might be possible for you to seek him out. Have you thought of that?” “No.” The thought chilled her, but deep inside, a shiver of hope began. Could it be possible? In the world of Talents, where lifetimes were so much longer, relative ages weren’t as important as mortals considered them. Then the hope died. “But you won’t be you. Just someone else who holds the memories of you. You’ll have gone on. It’s you I love, Jasper, only you.” He gazed into her eyes. “How can I be jealous of someone who hasn’t been born yet?” He gave a short, mirthless laugh. “But if I thought you could be happy when I’ve gone --” “I’ll always miss you, always love you,” she interrupted. “Don’t ask anything else of me. Please, Jasper. But I’ll go on. I’ll make my life mean something, and when I die, I’ll come to you.” “That a promise?” “It is.” Jasper found a strange consolation in that promise. He’d give up his life for her, but he didn’t want her to give up everything for him. He kissed her, deep and long. “Shall we go to bed?” She glanced at the clock and laughed. “At nine o’clock?” He laughed too. “I have the atelier working on the cocktail gowns; that means they won’t bother us until the morning. They have everything they need. The computer staff is busy grading the new patterns, and the accessories people know what they need to do. My principal model isn’t due to attend rehearsal for another two days, and I happen to know she has no photo shoots for another week.” “How do you know that?” He touched his lips to her forehead. “Either I’m all knowing, or I took a peek at her computer diary.” She chuckled. “Although why pen and paper isn’t good enough for you, I’m not sure.” “I can access it from wherever in the world I happen to be,” she explained. “I --” He cut her off with a deep kiss before lifting his head to gaze at her. “And in any case, from now on, wherever she is, I’m going to do my very best to be there too.” “How can you arrange that?” “I love you. I want to spend every minute of every day with you, and if I can’t do that, then I’ll do my best to try for as near as I can get.” “I don’t know if I deserve this.” “I know I don’t, but I’m not worrying about it now.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

135

Before he could pull her to him for another kiss, her hand drifted over silk, thrown over the back of his chair. Momentarily distracted, she lifted the silk and let it trail over her hands. “What’s this?” “These.” He took the multicolored swathes of bright fabric from her. “I’m designing for the new accessory line. Scarves. These are the rejects.” “I thought you did those already.” “Only to go with the clothes, I never sold them separately.” He rippled the silk through his fingers. “I changed my mind about one of the designs, and I’ve decided to keep it in the collection.” He looked up at her through his lashes. “Can you tell which one?” Smiling, she took the first one from him, slowly drawing it through his fingers, loving the contrast between firm, tanned skin and bright, soft fabric. The first scarf was a lime green, with lines etched on it that looked like a charcoal drawing. “Nice as a design, but not when bunched up.” She tightened the fabric between her hands and pulled it tight. The silk snapped, and she felt Jasper flinch. What about that gesture made him do that? He held out his hand, and she put the green silk in it. The next was pink, a cerise with a design of a bird drawn in the center, a fantastic bird with wings and a fish’s head. “I love this one,” she said. “But no, it doesn’t make for a scarf. It won’t drift.” She didn’t tighten the material this time but laid it in his hand, letting her fingers float over his palm before she relinquished her hold on the silk. “This?” She whipped a cloud of orange into the air and watched it float down into her hand. “No. I can’t say why. It’s lovely, but it isn’t Lebec.” The next piece was blue, the blue of the sky, designed with a series of lines. She pulled it tight and watched the lines straighten and twist, then she pulled it the other way and watched them cascade down the fabric in disconnected dashes. “This one is good.” The last piece, the fifth, was red and as soon as she touched it, she knew. “This one. This is the one you chose.” “How could you know that?” “It has a style. And you handled this one more than you did the others.” Yes, this scarf opened up to a design of ripples and multicolored lines, pretty, but even better when pulled tight between her hands. This time she saw his shiver as well as feeling it. She laid the red fabric carefully across the back of the chair. Jasper still held the four rejects. “What is it, Jasper?” “What do you think we should do with these?” His low, seductive tones brought a tremor of excitement, and she understood. He’d been watching her assess the fabric, imagining what else they could do, and now he let her into his fantasy. “You want to tie me up?” Then her shudder came, not sexual at all but sheer terror. “I can’t, Jasper. I can’t.” “I know, love.” His long fingers turned her to face him. “You let me into everything; put all your barriers down for me. I know what Cristos never told me, but we are the only

136

Lynne Connolly

people alive who know. You never take shit from anybody, you don’t cry or complain, and you don’t let people in, even other Talents. It’s too painful for you, isn’t it?” A tear escaped from her eye and found its way down her cheek. Jasper caught it on his finger and studied the crystal droplet as if he found answers there. “I know what the Soviets did to you before you escaped.” She resisted the urge to pull away and fold into herself like a wild creature seeking comfort, a hedgehog curling up in the middle of the road in front of a speeding car. He knew. Her instincts said he should hate her now, despise her for what she was, and she would never forget -- the one and only time she ever saw the mighty Cristos overcome by emotion. He’d killed everyone in the facility where they held her, after he’d rescued the other Talents, promised no one else would ever know to what they’d subjected her. But now Jasper knew, too. How could he have penetrated her deepest defenses without her noticing? “It’s natural to me, my sweet. When someone lets me in, I see the knack, the way they construct their barriers, and I can read them all. That’s why I could read Louise when even an experienced operator like Elaine couldn’t manage it. But I didn’t mean to read your secrets. I just didn’t realize you’d locked them down.” She looked at him then. Pulling away wouldn’t help, nor would covering it up, so she consciously opened everything. What was the point? He must feel differently about her now that he knew what she’d been made into. Once her captors had tested her and found her telepathic skills, they’d tried to subjugate her any way they could. “They tried putting me up against one of their telepaths, but I evaded him,” she whispered. She had never told anyone what happened to her before and it was harder than she could ever have imagined. “They tried one of their Sorcerers, but he was a virgin Sorcerer, driven mad by his celibacy. The choice to remain virgin has to be voluntary, and they’d imposed the state on him. So I wound up his thought processes and confused him even more. I defied them all, but I didn’t realize they would kill all the Talents they set against me. Then they tried wearing me down. They kept me awake, Jasper, wouldn’t let me sleep. So when they demanded sex in return for sleep, I let them.” She swallowed and fell silent. “No.” He manacled her wrist, took it in his hand, and stroked her, but she flinched and pulled away. He didn’t pursue her. “Tell me, let it out. Let the sound out in this room, and then we’ll let it go, together.” The brightly colored scarves floated in the air when he lifted his hand to touch her. “I don’t think I can,” she said. “Let it go, I mean. But I’ll tell you. I’ll try, if you want me to, Jasper.” A smile flickered across his lips and then died unborn. He sat down again and let the fabric drift across his knee. She looked down at his dear face. “Thank you,” was all he said, simple and unadorned.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

137

“They tied me up, Jasper. Onto a Cross of St. Andrew. You know, the X shape.” He nodded. “They hadn’t any working handcuffs, so they used rope. It hurt, but I endured it. I knew once I took the bird’s form, the scrapes would go. But they never let me change. This was where they began to develop Cephalox, at this facility in the heart of Siberia. It worked, but it had nasty side effects, so they used us to experiment on. Most of my time there, I battled with migraines and nausea, but the drug didn’t help me to divorce myself from what was going on, what they were doing to me.“ She took a deep breath, fighting her tears. “I’d never, ever been under anyone’s complete control before. I’m a firebird, I’m strong, but they took that away from me. They didn’t even ask for my cooperation. They just did it. They didn’t gag me, because some of them got off on screams and pleadings. And I screamed, I pleaded with them to let me go, any way they wanted, even if that meant killing me.” She licked her lips, gone suddenly dry but she didn’t stop, or she might never talk about it again, the experience that had scarred her life, driven a huge gouge between what she was then and what she was now. “They used me. Men and women both, Jasper. They used me. When the fancy took them, they fucked me, sucked me, watched each other with me, made me take three at once, took photographs. And film.” “What happened to the photographs?” “When Cristos blew the laboratory up, he used them to fuel the fire. He waited until there was nothing left, he said, until everything was ashes.” “I owe Cristos a great deal for that,” Jasper said grimly. “They tortured me for days, weeks, I don’t know how long. I think the original intention was to break me, but they went on long after that.” As did her nightmares. Cristos never treated her with anything but the greatest consideration. His respect and professed admiration that she survived, helped her through the nightmare years before she’d decided on the new direction her life was going to take. “Cristos brought me to America and found me papers. I decided on a quiet life as a secretary, thought it was what I needed after the USSR.” For the first time since she began her story, she reached for him, touched him with hesitant fingers, trailing them across his palm. His hand closed around hers but didn’t hold it captive, merely cradled her hand inside his. His face was still, listening, his eyes fixed on her face. “But I didn’t need the quiet life. Too much time to think. I needed to own the world, make it mine, and defeat it. So I started again, killed that person off, and created someone else, got new papers and a new identity. I decided to be Svetlana again, to face what I was instead of running away from it.” “So you became a model.” “Yes.” He understood, but she said it anyway. “I wanted to stand in front of the world and say, ‘Here I am, look at me!’ and prove to myself that I existed and I mattered.” “Has it worked?” “Mostly. Sometimes I feel panic.” “When?” He kept his voice low and steady.

138

Lynne Connolly

“At first, it was when I stood on the catwalk at the end of a show, when the models crowd around the designer to congratulate him. I thought the designer would push me away. But they looked at me and saw someone who worked well with them. They didn’t care what I was before, or what I’d done. One day, I looked at Gaultier and knew that if I told him what I’d been, he wouldn’t care one way or the other, not because he’s not a compassionate man but because he didn’t know me, and I didn’t know him. I did a job, and I did it well. That in itself was liberating, that there were people in the world who didn’t care that I’d been used as a sex object, if I’d ever told them. Then I met you.” She’d always found that part hard to explain, the comfort brought by strangers, but it was easier, now the poison was released, at last. After Cristos brought her to America, she’d told him she wanted to lock it away and forget about it, and he’d honored her wish, but sometimes she caught him looking at her and knew he was thinking about the way he’d discovered her. Somehow, she didn’t mind Cristos knowing. But she hadn’t wanted to tell Jasper. Or anyone else. “So you did.” Jasper brought their joined hands to his lips. There was no hesitation in his kiss. “And I tried to behave with indifference too, but something in you always called to me. I thought it was your beauty, that you expressed naturally what I was striving to convey in my designs. Then I thought it was the way the firebird showed through sometimes, in the way you walk or move, or the strength you always showed in Department assignments. Then I knew something inside you called to me. No other model, no other firebird ever did that. It’s unique to us.” “Yes,” she whispered. “That’s why I did you a grave wrong when I sent you to Berthier. Not only was I trying to deny our love, but I sent you into a situation to deliberately denigrate you in my eyes, to persuade myself that you weren’t the one. If you’d had sex with him for the sake of the operation, I thought, then I wouldn’t feel so bad. It put an experience between you and me and that first night. I knew you liked him, that you felt mild sexual attraction to him, and as I told you, I have never sent agents into that kind of situation without their full consent. But I was wrong. I should never have put you there, never have asked you. You felt trapped, didn’t you?” She nodded. “When you came aboard the yacht and Berthier was showing me off like some kind of -- possession -- I felt humiliated like I hadn’t felt for many years. I never allowed it before. But the operation became personal. Because it was you seeing me like that. And for all I knew, you’d forgotten me and moved on.” “I meant to contact you just before we climbed aboard and apprise you of the real situation.” He lifted his eyes to her face, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. “I was a coward, Svetlana. My past experiences have made me so, but that is no excuse. Only when I realized we were in love, that destiny had already arrived, whether we acknowledged it or not, did I come to you. I should have come to you anyway and accepted what would happen. I have now. Will you let me make some kind of amends, sweetheart?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

139

He lifted the green scarf and pressed it into her hand. Svetlana let it drop as if the touch burned her and stepped away from him. “You want to tie me up?” She swallowed. “I could let you do that, Jasper. You can do whatever you want to me.” He stood, catching the remaining strips of silk when they threatened to fall to the floor and bent to retrieve the one she’d dropped. “No, darling, that wouldn’t help you. You’ve endured that already. Making you relive the experience won’t do anything but bring back the horror. I want you to tie me up.”

140

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Nineteen Appalled, she stared at him, then realized how foolish the suggestion was. “Jasper, you’re an Ancient. You’ve powers I’ve only just begun to realize are jaw-dropping to the rest of us.” “But I’m not invincible. We archetypes have our weaknesses. Achilles had his weak heel, Zeus his sex drive that made him do unutterably stupid things, Artemis her eternal virginity that drove her to spiteful acts.” She wouldn’t ask. She didn’t want to know. But he told her anyway. “Say after me,” he said and articulated three words in old Russian. She repeated them. She knew them well, but they weren’t words that would ever be used together normally. The sound flowed over her tongue, and the corner of his mouth drew up in a grimace. “You have me. If you bind me, and you say those three words, there is nothing I can do to escape. Nothing.” “You’d let me do that?” “You and only you. And afterwards, I’ll leave the words with you. I won’t take them away; they are yours without condition, to do whatever you want with. You can print them in Le Figaro, announce them on your Web site, whatever makes you happy. ‘How to subjugate Jasper Lebec with three simple words.’” “I’d rather say ‘I love you.’” His face warmed although he didn’t smile. “I’d rather you did, too. But for now, sweetheart, do this. Let me serve you in any way you want. Tie me up, abandon me, use me. Anything.” She caught her breath. Jasper needed control. In his personal life, as a leader of the Department, he’d never acted any other way. He ran his life efficiently and completely, as his own man going his own way. “You’d do this for me?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

141

“Yes.” He uttered the single word so fervently, she couldn’t disbelieve him. “Would it turn you on?” His mouth twisted. “I don’t know. I never tried.” “May I command you?” “Don’t ask; just do it.” A surge of power electrified her. Oh yes, this turned her on for sure. “Then take your clothes off and lie on the bed.” She watched as he calmly stripped, hiding nothing but revealing nothing either. This wasn’t a striptease. Perhaps that would be interesting another day. She never tired of seeing his athletically muscular, tanned body, so Svetlana enjoyed watching him undress and cross her big bedroom to her bed. Tension thrummed between them, tightening their desire, but when she linked with him, she felt a thread of something that in anyone else she would have labeled fear. Her bed was a big, antique brass one, with elaborate ivory-topped posts, perfect for what they had in mind. Jasper pulled her Irish crocheted bedcover and her quilt away to reveal the stark white cotton sheets and lay down on his back, his arms loosely by his sides. She followed him and rested her folded arms on the rail at the bottom of the bed. Its metallic chill struck through her light cotton top. “You’re afraid.” He met her gaze. “Yes. “Is it because you told me the words?” “No. It’s because I hate to be tied up. But I want to do this for you, Svetlana. My fear isn’t uncontrollable.” He flashed a grin, but it looked forced to her. “It might even add spice to the encounter.” “You’d do this for me?” “More than this. Much more.” She turned to find the scarves, which he’d left draped over his chair and returned, running the silk through her fingers. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” “Never added a bit of kink to your sex life?” Her mood changed, lightened at his gentle teasing. “Not like this. I guess I avoided it.” “Yes. Well, I’m yours. Stop putting it off and do it.” “Will this turn you on?” She already knew it did for her. “Since I’ve never tried it before, I don’t know. But with you, I want to try.” As an agent, Svetlana knew how to tie knots, although these days, she tended to prefer flex cuffs. She let the scarves drift over his body, and one caught the head of his already straining cock. Despite or maybe because of his fear, Jasper was aroused.

142

Lynne Connolly

“No secrets,” he murmured. “Yes, it turned me on to strip while you were dressed, instead of the other way around. When you undress in the atelier for your fittings, it turns me on, but this is more potent.” She liked it too. She secured the first scarf around his wrist, and when she drew it up, he let her lift it to stretch over his head. Her bed was large, so she was careful not to pull too tight and make it impossible to use the scarf on his other side. He opened his hand, palm out. “Does that hurt?” “Use the words, Svetlana. Untie the end fastening my wrist and retie it. Use the words.” “Jasper, are you sure?” He snared her gaze. “I have never told anyone those words before. Some of my fellow Ancients know them, not because I told them, but because they learned the words in time past. But I never told anyone voluntarily. Do it, Svetlana.” Humbled by his confession, she did as he said, untied and retied the scarf at his wrist and as she tightened the knot, murmured the words. They flowed over her tongue, the Russian a reminder of her childhood. His hand stiffened, and then he deliberately relaxed his fingers. “It’s done.” “You can’t escape?” “No.” A thought struck her. “Then how do you get out of it?” He smiled up at her, no shadows in his eyes now. “You release me. Only you can do it.” “I’d better not have a heart attack, then. Could someone cut you free?” “No. You can try it if you like.” She swallowed and decided not to put it to the test. “Real magic?” His smile remained firm. “I don’t know how it works. I just know it does.” “Didn’t you ever want to find out?” He shook his head. “It would have made no difference.” She walked around the bed at its foot to reach his other side, holding the orange scarf. The green one and the blue lay across his cock and as she passed she gave the blue one a sharp tug. He gasped, his sensitivity easily discernable through their linked minds. It sent a blast of heat to her pussy. “I felt that,” he said, watching her calmly as she secured the scarf around his wrist. As she tightened the knot, she murmured the three Russian words again and felt the tension as the knot secured. He didn’t resist when she pulled the silk taut so she could tie the knot around the bedpost. “You’re very good at this.” She didn’t switch back to English but continued speaking Russian. “I had good teachers.”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

143

He answered her in the same language. “I remember.” His voice seemed to deepen when he spoke her native tongue, the words elongating and purring through his throat. Chills ran through her. He picked up on it at once and reverted to English. “What is it? Is it too close for you?” then reverted to Russian, “Хорошо. Good. Because you need this, Svetlana.” Even her name sounded different. He sounded like her captors but somehow not, because he spoke her name with love. “You’re in control. Never forget that, dubchik.” “No.” She moved to the bottom of the bed and grabbed the green scarf. She finished securing it quickly, then moved on to the last one, tied it, and stood back. He lay spread-eagled on the bed, his dark eyes full of compassion, but that edge of fear remained. To her horror, she found it excited her. The tinge that gave the encounter an edge she hadn’t experienced before, making her feel slightly dirty. And that added to the turn-on. “Oh God!” “Do what you want, but do it now.” Something tripped in her brain, and Svetlana went into inquisitor mode. “I am in control here! Silence!” Jasper’s fear spiked. She felt it deep in her mind. She undid the first button on her blouse. “Like what you see?” She drawled the words, remembering what it felt like that first time. Reliving the experience now might mean it lost its power over her. It was worth a try. “Da,” he managed through clenched teeth. His cock, already straining, turned a deeper shade of red. It jutted out from his body, painfully erect. She undid another button, and he gave a low groan. “Svetlana!” Her name breathed through the room, echoed off the ivory-painted walls. Svetlana deliberately opened her mind to the memories she’d locked away more than thirty years before. They surged back, filling her senses so she lost the view of the tranquil room she’d created for herself and the rough-walled, windowless cell returned with all its intensity. She smelled the mixture of stale urine and sex that never failed to make her nauseous, heard the muffled sounds of screams and shouts from other parts of the underground prison. Saw the guards, men and women, all dressed in rough, charcoal gray uniforms, stinking of vodka and too much wear without cleaning. Another reason she’d joined the world of high fashion. She never wanted to experience that smell again. “Svetlana!” The sound was more urgent now, but she was no longer sure if a guard called her, or someone else. Jasper. Yes. She held onto the lifeline of sound and fought to control her memories. Their freshness astounded her, but she’d petrified them, frozen them for all this time, and their potency almost overwhelmed her soul. But not quite. The repeated use of her name and then, in English, a language heard only once in her underground prison, “Come back to me!” She blinked and her vision cleared but the memories remained. But they were just that, now. “Jasper, did you do something? Clear my mind?”

144

Lynne Connolly

“Niet. I can’t. You imprisoned me here. You’re the controller. If you cut your mind off from mine, I can do nothing to stop it. I can’t use my psi senses independently of yours.” “You didn’t tell me that!” He shrugged, or tried to but he couldn’t because his body was stretched taut. No. This wasn’t right, she shouldn’t be doing this but when she took a step forward to untie him, she stopped. He offered and this was her chance, if she had the courage to take it. She cut her mind off from his, and he moaned. Still erect, not quite so much, the redness paled a little, probably due to his anxiety when she’d left him. He stared up at her. She stared back, but she wouldn’t let him in. “This was what it was like,” she said, in Russian again. “The doses of primitive Cephalox made me sick and cut me off completely from my psi senses. It was like going blind. I couldn’t link with anyone. I’d never been alone before, not alone in my own mind, and I couldn’t stand it. But I learned to. I had to.” She undid the last two buttons and dragged the blouse off, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath she wore a lacy white bra that revealed the shadows of her nipples. She reached around and unclipped it. “They stripped me and left me naked. I was cold. They gave me a blanket sometimes, but removed it when they wanted to look or take.” Silence fell. The double-glazing prevented any sound getting through from the busy street outside. Like losing a sense, hearing this time. Appropriate. Holding her arms tightly by her sides, she used her hands to push her breasts up, taunting Jasper with the sight. Her palms covered her nipples, before she took the very tip between finger and thumb and tugged. The sensitivity, responding instantly to her own touch, astonished her. Jasper watched her, his mouth slightly open. “Tell me how much you want me, Jasper.” Breathing in deeply through his nose, he studied her. “More than I ever wanted any other woman. You fill my life and my heart.” “No, Jasper, not that. Not love. Want. Do you want to fuck me, fill me?” Reaching under her skirt she dragged her panties down her legs and kicked them aside. His eyes burned into hers. “I want to fuck you. Hard and long. Fast and then slow. I want to take you from every imaginable position. From behind, face to face, sitting on you, you sitting on me. I want to work through the Kama Sutra with you. Slowly. And then do it again.” She sauntered toward him and lifted one leg to rest her knee on the bed. “Can you smell me?” Again, that deep intake of breath and a sighed “Oh yes!” on the out breath. He took another breath. She swung the other leg up. Her skirt had a slight flare but only a slight one. She’d have to raise it to straddle him.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

145

So she hiked it up but only to mid-thigh. That was enough to lift her leg over his face. His long drawn out groan of wanting soothed her soul. Her party, her rules. “You can smell my arousal, can’t you?” “Yes!” His muscles strained against his bindings, but they held, creaking under the strain but not breaking. “Svetlana, let me --” “What do you want?” “I want to taste you.” Wetness oozed out of her. One drop slid down her inner thigh. She felt its passage, further down and then the sudden heat of Jasper’s tongue when he licked it off. His groan of satisfaction felt good, and she shivered. “Taste me then.” Reaching out, she grasped the bar at the head of the bed and lowered herself onto his face, as excruciatingly slowly as she could. His eager mouth enclosed her, licking and sucking, and she gasped. “I want two orgasms, Jasper. Both kinds. Clit first.” Obediently he opened his mouth and licked at the very tip of her clit, then along and around. Svetlana shuddered, and he growled, sucking her deep into his mouth. A series of deep, hard sucks as if he wanted to eat her for real made it impossible for her to hold out any longer. Knuckles white with tension, her eyes losing focus when she came, the climax shook her to the core. His teeth clamped around her clit, as if Jasper feared she’d pull away, and he sucked her through a long, screaming orgasm. “Stop!” Immediately, he withdrew, but she didn’t pull away from him, and he licked his way down to her opening. The first intrusion of his tongue felt like a cock, so swollen and sensitive were her tissues. Then she regained control, and he slid inside her. His face must be wet with her juices. The thought heated her even more, and she gasped his name but retained her hold on the bar. It was all that stopped her from sinking down onto his face, her knees buckling under the force of her orgasm. Jasper drank from her, sucking and slurping noises issuing from under her skirt. The forbidden aspect, the feel of him and not being able to see him made Svetlana think of him doing it under the preposterous bridal gown she’d worn at the couture show. There’d been plenty of room for him under those huge skirts. That would have made the matrons yell! The sounds increased as her juices flowed, and he obediently sucked and lapped. Her second orgasm came without warning, piercing her body with sharp spikes of sensation. Cries left her mouth unbidden, echoing around the now far from silent room, until she found the strength to pull away. “Enough!” Jasper pulled back sharply, and she managed to lift up and slide her knees further down the bed so she sat on his belly. His cock, hard and needy, stroked her backside, tried to

146

Lynne Connolly

insinuate itself between the cleft of her buttocks, but she squeezed them together, denying him access. His face gleamed with her juices and his own sweat. His eyes glassy, he drew in a couple of deep gasps of air. It must have been hot under her skirt. Watching him, Svetlana undid the first button on the skirt. It buttoned down the front. All the way down. “Do you want this?” “Oh yes! Please!” She gasped but wriggled her now soaking pussy on his skin, reminding him of her control. The last button undone, she peeled the skirt off her sweaty body. Jasper wasn’t the only one who’d gotten hot just now. “Look at me.” She lifted up on to her knees, to give him the best view of her body. “These.” Putting her hands under her breasts, she lifted them for his perusal. “Like them?” Jasper nodded. “Yes.” His voice sounded breathless and needy, but he didn’t hide any of his need for her. Wild-eyed now, he looked his fill and licked his lips, swollen from his recent sucking. Never had she seen him more out of control, never so needy and open to her. Jasper Lebec, one of the most powerful designers in Paris, one of the richest men in the world, possessor of psi senses of which she could only dream, was hers, all hers and only hers. He’d removed all his powers, subjugated himself to her. For love of her. For wanting her. Svetlana wanted him so badly she ached. Despite the two orgasms he’d so eagerly given her, she wanted him deep, deep inside her. She sat up and allowed his cock to nestle at the top of her cleft, just over her clit, too sensitive to bear much more than that light touch. “What would you give to have me take you now?” “Everything I own. All my power, my atelier, my business. My psi powers are yours. All yours, Svetlana.” “You swear it?” A sliver of fear slid across his eyes then was gone. “I swear it.” She lowered herself over him. He found his home naturally, without her having to guide him, and she pushed down until he was fully sheathed inside her. Filling her. After giving herself a couple of seconds to regain control, she met his eyes. Filled with her, glorying in her, hiding none of his devotion. “You will not come until I give you permission. Can you do that?” “I can try.” “Not good enough. If you come before I tell you to” -- she broke off, wildly searching for something he held dear -- “I won’t let you near me for another twenty-four hours. And

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

147

I’ll make you watch me naked, talk to you about what you want to do. I’ll be in your head, all that time, filling it with images of this.” Although that sounded mild, she didn’t doubt his heartfelt groans. “I can’t do that, Svetlana. Yes, I promise. I won’t come until you allow it.” She lifted and dropped her body onto his, once, agonizingly slowly. Every tiny nerve in her body tensed and tingled with the contact, every impulse screamed at her to ride him hard. There was no need for her to resist the urge. She could ride him, and he wouldn’t come. Without warning, she slapped her body down onto his, then up, then down, building into a hard, fast rhythm that stimulated her need for him. For balance, she planted her hands on his chest, giving him no mercy as she rode herself to orgasm. All he did was hold his body rigid for her. He didn’t push, and when she looked down at him, she realized why. He couldn’t. If he did, he’d come for sure. His cock throbbed inside her. Outside a man’s orgasm, she’d never felt that heavy, deep heartbeat while moving, and it forced her to realize how hard he was holding back. For her. Rising higher, dropping harder, she didn’t hold back her screams when her internal muscles clamped hard around him, and she pulsed in time to his beat, her wails ending in deep, heaving sobs. But not of sorrow. Never again would she remember that ordeal in the cells with the intensity that had flooded through her when she released them. Never would they have power over her or what she did. She could relegate them to the status of unpleasant memories and accept them as part of her, part of what made her Svetlana Yevchenko. She wanted Jasper to hold her then and take control, but he couldn’t. Leaning forward, she fumbled with the knots, finally getting one undone, then managed the other, her fingers almost numb with the effort. His straining had tightened them beyond her human ability to undo, and she had to partially shift, giving herself the firebird’s strength, before she managed it. Instantly, his arms went around her. “May I come?” Her weak nod was all the permission he needed. Jasper seated his cock deep within her, and he lifted her. This time he thrust as he pushed her back down and unbelievably Svetlana felt the beginning of another orgasm rise inside her. “I won’t come until you do, dusha,” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear, before kissing his way down to her mouth and taking her in an intense, passionate, openmouthed embrace. She tasted herself on him, in him, and that was all it took to remind her of his incredible tonguing. She turned to fire as he thrust into her body and exploded in a mass of tingling, aching nerves. Safe, safe in his arms. Forever.

148

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Twenty Cristos arrived back in France with more bad news. Solution X had made its first tentative appearance on the streets of New York. A recent takedown of a PHR cell, the organization dedicated to destroying all Talents, revealed not only the expected Cephalox but a small quantity of Solution X as well. Under a new name. Xanthos. “Branded and on the streets,” Jasper commented when Cristos told him. “Shit.” Now he stood next to Cristos, waiting for the right time to go in on this dark night in Grasse, chilly with the onset of autumn. They’d timed the raid for midnight, when shifts changed and the factory would be in a state of flux, nobody quite sure who should be there, with vehicles leaving and arriving. The security of this building was superb, but once they’d identified it as the source of Xanthos, Jasper’s security teams concentrated on it and found a way to get in with relatively little trouble. That and a little Sorcerer action on the minds of everyone who saw them would ensure this takedown was clean. Virgilio had infiltrated three operatives into the factory. One had spent some time hacking into the system and sending the records to Candy, a Department geek in New York. So they didn’t have to worry about the hardware. A controlled explosion to take out what they couldn’t carry, and the job would be done. The security staff would be too busy evacuating the premises and dealing with the blaze to worry about a few extra people coming and going. They could be part of the emergency services that would definitely arrive at the scene to add to the confusion. Jasper had made sure of that. When they were done, Hugo could give Louise what they had left in the divorce settlement. The day before, the papers had been full of news of the impending divorce. Hugo had finally done it and made the break. Louise, livid, was busy with her lawyers, so now was

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

149

the ideal time for the raid. Jasper was only relieved that Elaine wasn’t named in the divorce. Dubreis and Elaine had left just before the storm broke. In the few minutes before they went into action, they had time for a few brief words. “You were right, my friend,” Jasper said. “About Svetlana.” “I can feel your tranquility,” Cristos replied. “It suits you.” “She doesn’t believe in my destiny or refuses to face it. If… When I die, look after her.” “With everything I have, I promise.” Cristos knew Jasper’s fate as well as he did, and this kind of operation brought even more danger than usual. But Jasper refused to hide in corners or to allow his ultimate fate to dictate the way he ran his life. Cristos took the exterior team, the people who would secure the perimeter and prevent anyone arriving at the factory while they were there. They would make the transports look like routine deliveries and deal with the wounded or any other casualties. Unfortunately, they expected to find Talents inside, kidnapped for experimentation. Jasper had once thought it better to execute anyone they found, but those days were gone, and now people they captured were retrained, stripped of their dangerous memories, and released back into society. Sometimes they reoffended. It might be better if Talents came out and revealed themselves, but looking at the rampant bigotry in some circles, this would also be a difficult decision. And one they couldn’t take back once they’d done it. Jasper was going in this time, and he wasn’t about to show any mercy. He glanced at his team, all dressed in dark clothing, the shape-shifters wearing easily removable garments in case they needed to change their form. He had more than enough people on his team. The covert agents had done their work well and identified the part of the building where the Xanthos was stored. “I’m moving the Lebec contract from the Berthier factories once this is done,” he remarked now. “Won’t that fuck with the release of your new perfume?” “Most of it is packaged and in the warehouses. I’m already looking for a new source for future development.” Cristos fixed him with a steely glare. “God, you’re cold sometimes, Jasper!” He glanced at his old friend and raised a brow. “Sometimes we have to be.” “Good luck, sweetheart. I’ll see you when it’s done,” were his last words to Svetlana before she warmed his heart with her response, and he cut off all but superficial contact with her. Emotions would only get in the way tonight. He signaled his team members, and they moved forward, spreading out as they approached the building. Token floodlights illuminated the main security centers, so they avoided those. They chose the time between shifts when cars were leaving and arriving. One of the Talents drove forward at Jasper’s signal, his small car no threat to the security guard at the gate. Except that

150

Lynne Connolly

it was. A virgin Sorcerer, who would charm his way through and put all the security staff he came across under the same thrall, one of the rare Talents who could achieve this exhausting feat. Afterward, the man would be drained and weak for many days, but Jasper knew how lucky they’d been to find someone who could hold so many in his control for the time they needed to get inside the factory. His people inside had done their work well, too. Everything was ready. Jasper extended his senses. He could feel the moods and presences of all the people in the premises, a bit like a heat camera finding them by hot spots. He didn’t have to wait long. Followed by the twenty Talents, he walked into the building as soon as the Talents already inside announced that they could. The Sorcerers had done their job and the security guards in their cheap blue uniforms stared glassily at them as they walked past. The techs quickened their pace at his nod, heading for the security center. In the forecourt of the building, Jasper stopped to take stock. The building reared above him, four stories high and faced in crisp white rendering. He stared at it blindly, focusing on the inhabitants inside. Now that his agents had closed the buzzing jamming devices which had confused him on his previous visit, he found using his Talents so much easier. “The office section on the second floor is almost deserted. One guard in on the west side. He’s sleepy. I want two of you up there to secure that floor. The first floor is the main production area. There are a few guards there and night workers, nothing interesting. When we’re done, we sound the fire bell and get them all out when the facility blows. We concentrate our efforts on the west side of the building, on the fourth floor. That’s where the most activity is. I sense several Talents, more than ten, less than thirty. I can be more precise, but that would take time we don’t have. There are at least twenty members of staff there, most concentrated in that room, the second from the left. The room or area next to that is, I think, the storage area. I want the contents of anything we leave behind completely destroyed. “Rescue the Talents, capture the people on that floor, secure the hardware, in that order of priority. You have thirty minutes, and then I want the explosives laid in the labs and the alarms triggered. Report back to the reconnaissance point. I’ll give the order to trip the explosives when I’m sure everyone is accounted for. Thirty minutes in the building, five minutes to clear. Go.” A gentle breeze as they all passed was all the acknowledgement he received or expected. Jasper followed, setting himself the task of touring the building. He headed for the offices first but received a telepathic note of alarm and changed direction, climbing the stairs to the fourth floor. He didn’t detect any violence, something he could sense like a scent in the air. Just not as well as Cristos. Upstairs a group of Talents gathered outside a secure area. Retina and fingerprint areas. Most could cope with illusion but not temporary transformation. Jasper could.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

151

He gestured for them to bring forward the security guard they’d already captured and held him steady, forcing him down to look into the retina scanner. The barriers slid open. They filed inside, through the turnstiles. He detailed someone to take the turnstile down, or push it aside. One at a time wasn’t in his game plan. He could smell blood and death. Stale blood mingled with fresh, Talents with mortals. And the tang of artificial chemicals. Now he was here, he’d help with the most unpleasant task. Clearing the rooms. A dead vampire in the first. Jasper ordered him taken away for a postmortem to see what had killed him, suppressing his anger and frustration. If they’d scheduled the takedown earlier, they might have saved him. Or not. Enough Xanthos and the subject was dead, until the Department scientists managed to make an antidote or a vaccine. The drug negated vampire powers in low doses, killed a vampire at higher ones. This vampire had fought hard before he died, but as a mortal. His mouth was taut over his bared teeth, his fangs withdrawn into the tooth buds. In the second, a barely living female, one who would probably die in the next few hours. Altogether, they found fifteen Talents, ten vampires and five others used as test subjects. Eight of the vampires were dead or dying, the other two were chained to tables, waiting their turn. How many had these bastards used since the experiments started? Jasper felt an urge to kill them all and tamped it down. He would have his revenge on Louise Berthier, though. He’d ruin her, or what was left, after the divorce. That, to Louise, was worse than death. It might take a little longer, a word to colleagues here, a few share losses there, but he’d destroy her. Sick at heart, Jasper called the other solemn-faced Talents to the end of the hallway where the prisoners had been tortured. “We don’t hold this in our hearts,” he said, knowing at last that he was a hypocrite. Too many facilities, too much cruelty. “We do what we came here to do, no more, no less. The prisoners will be taken to the facility in Paris. No vampires will be allowed near them, apart from trained operatives. The Sorcerers will question them.” He turned away. “Then they might wish they were dead.” He could find no compassion in his soul. Usually, he understood, kept dispassionate enough to ensure the operation went exactly as he planned it. More than anything else, he wanted to hold Svetlana, just hold her and feel her comfort and warmth seep into his cold bones. Soon, he promised himself. Very soon. He needed air. After checking on the progress of the others, Jasper took the route the planners had worked out to a small fire door at the back of the building; its alarms had been deactivated. He breathed deep of the cool autumn air, appreciating the freshness after the clammy heat of the summer. His thoughts turned to Svetlana, and he began to feel better. “Jasper!” He spun around at the sound of her voice, suppressing his shock. “Hello, Louise.”

152

Lynne Connolly

“What are you doing here?” Dressed in stylish black, as opposed to Jasper’s utilitarian clothes, the silver emblem on Louise’s tennis shoes gleamed in the light filtering across the grass from the factory. An experienced agent would have torn the emblems off. “I should ask you that.” He wanted her to say it herself. He could enter her mind and read her, but he wanted to hear it. “It’s my factory. Or rather, my husband’s.” “So what are you doing here, at this hour, Louise? Dressed like that?” He walked toward her, his easy stride eating up the ground. She didn’t back away but took a step toward him. Good. The more confident she felt, the better for his purposes. “I had word there was some kind of break-in.” “So you came here on your own?” He kept his voice calm and steady. “I’ve called the police, of course. But I was close, so I came to see how anyone could break into such a secure facility.” Danger would attract Louise. Her eyes gleamed with it. The stupid woman didn’t know the difference between controlled danger and the real thing. “Is there anything here you know is valuable, Louise?” She met his gaze calmly. “You know there is.” Ah. So now they got to the nub of the matter. “I take it we’re not discussing the perfume here. So what would that be?” Louise gave him a slow, secretive smile. “Haven’t you found it yet? You are with them, aren’t you?” “Svetlana, Louise is here. Any way she could have passed your patrol ?” A brief silence then her reply, composed and without emotion. “Unlikely, unless she

knows what she’s doing.” “Then she’s been here all the time, watching.” “Have you filmed this operation, Louise?” To his surprise, her face crumpled. “Why, Jasper? Why you? You’re a powerful, successful man. Why take up with scum?” “Maybe I’m scum, too.” He was close enough to touch her now, but he would only do that if he had to. “You?” Her face cleared and Louise donned her usual expression of scornful disdain. “I’ve read your mind, Jasper. If you’re with these…things, either it’s against your will, or you’re under a spell. Is that it? Jasper, let me read you.” He felt a clumsy attempt to read his mind, a psychic probe that he let in but only so far. He’d play along and see what happened. He was safe enough. But just to make sure, he sent a message to his operatives. Now they all knew Louise was here, and despite what she said, she might have brought people with her. If the police really were on their way, they needed

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

153

heading off. The Department had useful links with the authorities. They would use them, if they had to. She frowned and laid her hand on his arm. He resisted the urge to flinch away. “Dear Jasper, they have you, don’t they? Come with me. I might have something to help.” With her consciousness in his, it was easy to slip into her mind and read her intentions. She wanted to drug him. Fuck, she really did want to save him! But for herself. In her world, he’d be so grateful that she freed him from the iniquitous evil of Talents, he’d marry her for it. The woman was mad. Jasper let her lead him back to the factory and to the fourth floor. They used the elevator. “We’ve apprehended six people trying to take us down,” came the laconic tones of Virgilio Dubreis. “They were no trouble.” He’d get Louise upstairs and then take her. But just after the light for the second level flashed by, she stopped the elevator between floors. The doors slid open onto a dark space. She flipped on a light. “Come in, Jasper.” Not good. This was a hidden room, no windows, difficult to escape. Jasper went on full alert. “What have you here?” He stepped out of the elevator, grabbed a book, and used it to wedge the door open before finally entering the little room. An old-fashioned cauldron, jars of what looked like herbs and leaves. Jasper smiled indulgently. “A witch’s store?” Her smile of triumph would be amusing if it weren’t so pathetic. “Exactly. I have something here that would help you, Jasper. I can break the spell those bastards have put on you. I can free you to be your true self.” Then, of course, he would be eternally grateful to her. He kept his answering smile gentle and unthreatening, beginning to think this woman was more than half-insane. “I am my true self, Louise.” He opened up just a little and let her glimpse some of what he was. She stepped back, one hand to her throat. The only sound was a muted scuffling from above them and Louise’s heavy gasp. “You’re one of them! Jasper, how could you?” “It’s what I am, Louise. Nothing I can help or hinder. I’m as normal, as human as you are. Just a different kind of human. That’s all. Did you think that Homo sapiens were the only kind of human? We’re different. Not evil, not special, just different. Come with me now.” He exerted a gentle pull. He wanted her intact if possible, for the interrogators, but he wasn’t surprised when she resisted. But when he looked into her face, her eyes gleamed with hope. “Jasper, can you make me like you? Can you?” “Male?”

154

Lynne Connolly

“Ageless.” She breathed the word like a prayer, and another cog slotted into place. Of course that would be her reason for all this. All the plastic surgery in the world wouldn’t stop her inevitable fate. “Have you tried another way?” He indicated the jars with a jerk of his head. “Some kind of elixir of life?” “Yes.” Louise gave the jars a cursory glance. “I’m sure there’s a way, but I never found it. Then I discovered you people, the ones that call themselves Talents. I want life, Jasper. Eternal life. I’ll be good for you. I can bring you drugs and money.” When Jasper remained silent, she became more desperate, her voice gaining a hysterical edge. “I’ll do anything, Jasper. Anything.” “I can’t, Louise.” “Don’t say that. You know these people; you could make them change me. Even if you can’t. What are you, anyway? Vampire, shape-shifter?” “No. I’m not one of those.” He wouldn’t tell her what he was. “But you know them, right? We’ve tried for years to discover the secret of eternal youth. You think Hugo is wealthy? How much wealthier do you think you could get selling a pill that could render a person ageless?” “No one is ageless, Louise. Vampires age, so do shape-shifters. They die. They have an average of five hundred years.” Her sigh came deep and low. “I want that, Jasper. Turn me. Make me like you.” “That’s impossible.” It wasn’t, but he wouldn’t tell her that. However he would tell her a few other things. “Vampires can only convert once in their lives, and they give their own lives to do it. There is no way you can force one to do that. It has to be voluntary. All those vampires you killed in your experiments, they could have converted you if you’d made them love you instead and persuaded them your life was worth more than theirs.” The shock on her face was some recompense for what she’d caused. But not enough. “Shape-shifters can convert once. They usually do it if they fall in love with a human, or they might do it for humanitarian purposes. You can’t coerce them, either. Or force them, as you have no doubt discovered.” He remembered the so-called ‘specimens’ she had murdered in her frantic search for immortality, the ones he’d been unable to save, and his anger rose up. But he wanted to take her alive, to see if she had any useful contacts. The ones in New York, to be precise, who were selling the stuff on the street. So instead of wringing her neck, he turned the subject. “Louise, live for the day. It’s all any of us can do. There is only today, only now. Tomorrow you’ll be older than you are now, and there’s nothing any of us can do to change that. We’re living now, not tomorrow, not yesterday, so learn to live it and enjoy it. Come with me.” He exerted a little more pressure but not enough to hurt her. This time it worked, and she followed him back into the elevator.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

155

This time, they traveled up to the fourth floor. A warm presence waited behind the metal doors. He felt her through them. When the doors slid open, she stood waiting for him, her hair tumbling free from the knit cap she’d pulled off her head, spilling in fiery strands over her shoulders. Svetlana glanced past Louise as if she meant nothing and smiled at Jasper. “Everyone accounted for. Everything accomplished.” Louise stepped out of the elevator with Jasper’s hand firmly at the small of her back. “I might have known you’d be there somewhere.” Casually, as if lifting a fashionable handbag, Svetlana raised a solid-looking Ruger P89. She lifted her free hand to flip off the safety catch.

156

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Twenty-One “Hello, Louise.” Louise glared at Svetlana before her attention wandered to the subdued activity. She gasped in outrage. “You’ve no right to do this!” Even now, her expression was strangely devoid of emotion. Only a slight widening of her eyes revealed the fury Svetlana sensed boiling inside her. She’d probably had her Botox renewed since the vacation on the yacht. “We have every right. If you hurt one of our own, you can expect retaliation.” Louise took a step back, landing against Jasper’s broad chest. His arms went around her and she deliberately rubbed her body against him. Jasper placed his hands on her shoulders and moved her forward again before releasing her. “So you’re one too. If I’d known, I could have taken you on the ship. Brought you here.” She bared her teeth. “Put you in one of the rooms.” Svetlana suppressed her instant spark of fear, but she knew Jasper had picked it up from her. One of Jasper’s hands, at rest against his thigh, clenched into a fist. His emotions flared in Svetlana’s mind, a flash of anger, almost instantly doused. “As well you didn’t,” he growled. Louise’s face relaxed into a smile. “If you don’t convert me, Jasper, I’ll tell everyone what and who you are.” She might think she had them, but she wouldn’t stand a chance against the Sorcerers working for the Department. They could dissect a mind into its separate memories, use their powers like surgical tools, excising and restructuring. But Svetlana wouldn’t tell Louise that, not now. She would find out soon enough. “We’re not interested,” Jasper said, calmer now. He moved to guide her into the center of the room, no doubt intending to hand her over to someone to take into custody. But she planted her feet firmly and resisted. “This is

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

157

my factory, and I won’t be told what to do by intruders. You know I’ve called the local police.” “You told me,” Jasper said. “So how about it? You convert me, and I won’t tell anyone about you. I’ll even put some of my facilities at your disposal, if you want.” Jasper shook his head. “No deal, Louise. You’re going home, after a little questioning.” “But it’s what I want! I’ll never stop looking for the elixir of life, never!” Her voice rose to a crescendo, higher pitched than her usual modulated tones. “She’s right.” Svetlana heard the sincerity, odd sounding in Louise. “No amount of mind-wipes will rid her of that. It’s her basic personality, never satisfied with what she has, always wanting more.” Jasper sighed. “That’s true. So what do we do?” “The usual wipe,” Cristos put in for the first time. “Then we let her go. We can’t change personalities. That would put us on a par with our enemies.” The deep voice seemed to shake Louise. Her head whipped around, and she stared at Cristos. “Do I know you?” The haughty air was Louise’s default attitude. “No.” Cristos met her gaze, not in the least disconcerted. “Nor do I wish to further my acquaintance with you. You’ve developed a substance that threatens many of my friends, people who have done you no harm. I’ll do what I have to do and what justice demands, but after that, I have no desire ever to see you again.” “Oh, I have had enough!” Louise reverted to her natural, strongly accented American English. Svetlana pinned her origin down to New Jersey, or more specifically, Noo Joisey. Usually Louise used an Upper East Side New York accent, but her fury stripped all that from her. She spun around to face Jasper. “I’ll ruin you, Jasper Lebec. I’ll make sure the world knows what you are. A thing. A nothing. You haven’t even the taste to choose a decent muse. Topaz is flashy; she has no class.” She shot Svetlana a contemptuous glance. “How about Susan Armstrong?” Svetlana asked. Louise answered without turning around. “She was even worse. Brainless and too young. She was a useful test subject. Then Jasper turned to you instead of me.” “How did you know what she was?” Jasper demanded. “I didn’t, not precisely. I knew she was something. I can tell, sometimes.” She gave Jasper a baleful stare. “Except for you. I had no idea about you. Are you sure you’re one of them?” “Interesting.” Jasper exchanged a look with Cristos. “She’s a sensitive.” “But not a good one,” he added through their private telepathic link. “She didn’t know about Svetlana, Elaine, or Dubreis. They shielded themselves too well for her to uncover them.” Cristos sent a brief acknowledgement.

158

Lynne Connolly

“I asked you a question.” But Jasper had finished with Louise. He motioned an operative forward. “Take her away. I’ll send someone to question her soon.” “You don’t dismiss me like that.” Louise turned to face Jasper. “You do not.” From somewhere she pulled a gun, a small Heckler & Koch. Svetlana recognized the color, wondered vaguely where it had come from, but already she was in the air, leaping for Jasper. She heard the shot as she knocked him aside. They landed on the floor, panting and sounds of struggle came from behind them. Only when she pulled her hands away to get to her feet did she realize her hands were wet. She stared at her hands numbly. Blood. Jasper’s blood.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

159

Chapter Twenty-Two “Oh dear God!” Svetlana scrambled to her feet. “Jasper!” “Get her out of here,” Cristos snapped, and it took a minute to realize he was referring to Louise. Svetlana held herself together, forced calm through every nerve of her quivering body. Blood poured out of a wound somewhere under him, pooling around his body. Medics appeared, and Svetlana stepped away but remained within his sight. He stared at her, and she felt him trying to contact her. She opened fully to him and drew him in. His telepathic voice was weak, completely unlike his usual confident tone. “This is it, sweetheart.” “No! You’re an Ancient, you have to be able to get past this !” “If you hadn’t knocked me aside, maybe, but the bullet must have ricocheted off the wall behind us and entered my heart. I can’t survive this.” Tears choked her throat, but she refused to let them fall. The medics stepped back, and one shook his head at Cristos. Svetlana caught the movement peripherally, but she couldn’t take her gaze away from Jasper. He would not die; he couldn’t! She knelt down by his side, heedless of the rapidly cooling blood that seeped into her clothes. His hand was clean when she took it. He squeezed it. “Svetlana, I love you. You brought me the greatest happiness I could ever imagine. We knew this would happen; we both knew it.” “Jasper, this can’t be the end. You’re so powerful. Isn’t there anything anyone can do?” He began to shake his head but winced. That wistful smile curved his lips. Lips she longed to kiss. “There’s nothing.” A murmur behind her and movement told her people were leaving. Leaving them alone. Only one presence remained, a powerful male presence that could only be Cristos.

160

Lynne Connolly

He reached over Svetlana and grasped Jasper’s free hand. “Good-bye, my friend. It has been a privilege knowing you. I’ll miss you.” “Good-bye, Cristos.” Jasper’s gaze left Svetlana for a moment to smile at his friend and colleague. Cristos’s sudden stillness froze her. “What is it?” “His eyes. Look at his eyes, Svetlana.” She looked. Her shadow fell across him so she hadn’t seen them at first. Not until she moved back to let the light fall on to his face. “They’re green,” she breathed. The glittering silver had gone and now jade stared back at her. “It might be a sign that I’m dying.” “No, it’s not that,” Cristos said. “The god has left you. You’re Jasper Lebec without the god. Jarilo has gone to a new host.” Jasper blinked. “You’re right,” he said, his voice thready now. “I have no Talent anymore. Svetlana is keeping our link alive. Without her, I wouldn’t be able to connect.” His smile broke her heart. “I can be just Jasper now. For you.” He coughed, and a thread of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. A hand gripped the back of her sweatshirt, and Cristos jerked her to her feet. “What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded, trying to fall down again. She couldn’t miss his last minutes. He hadn’t long, that was obvious. “Strip.” Cristos’s pragmatic tones made her mouth drop open in shock. “What?” “The god has left him. He’s not Jarilo any more. That means the fate is no longer with him.” Before Cristos finished speaking, she realized what he meant. She unbuckled the weapons belt but didn’t bother with anything else. She started to convert as soon as the confining belt had gone, feathers bursting through her skin and clothes as the shift started. “No.” Jasper’s voice was almost gone, but she heard it. Her beak was forming. She was beyond speech. “Yes. Cristos is right. If I can convert you, you can heal. You no longer have the god’s

fate.” “I’ve lost too much blood. Just sit with me.” “Jasper Lebec, are you giving up? Well I won’t let you. If you can’t take a feather from

me, Cristos will act as your proxy. Then I’ll shrink you small so you can recover. You don’t need much blood when you’re tiny.” She could have sworn a smile flitted across his lips, but that was impossible. He couldn’t possibly smile at a time like this. “I can’t move much anymore. I’d be honored if

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

161

Cristos acted as my proxy.” His voice was nearly all breath and hardly any sound, but she heard and so did Cristos. Cristos didn’t waste any time, but located her heart and yanked out a feather, murmuring the words that weren’t necessary but confirmed what he did. “I take this on behalf of the man known as Jasper Lebec, beloved of Svetlana Yevchenko. May it work well and swiftly.” Before he’d finished, he bent to Jasper, a wicked-looking knife in his hand, drawn from his own weapons belt. Taking Jasper’s blood-sodden pants, he slit up the fabric from the bottom. Jasper groaned. Svetlana shape-shifted back into her human form faster than she’d ever done before; she could do it quickly when she wanted to. Cristos pressed the feather into her hand and got to his feet. “This should be done in private. Call me when you’re finished or if you need my help.” His hand rested on her shoulder for a moment, giving her warmth and strength, and he left the room. Svetlana stared at Jasper, his newly minted green eyes dulled with pain and exhaustion. Shoving aside a fold of the cloth, she took his hand and pushed the feather into it, then pressed it against his thigh, placing her own hand over the top. The heat began immediately, seeping through his hand to hers, sharp, localized heat in strong contrast to Jasper’s chilled body. She lay down beside him, her hair trailing in the pooled blood, her body dipping into it but nothing mattered now except Jasper. “If you die, I’ll come with you,” she murmured. With an effort, he lifted his hand and dropped it on her hair, too far gone to touch her with the exquisite gentleness he normally used. “I don’t think you should. But if you’re unhappy any other way, I’ll be waiting. We’re together now, Svetlana, just you and me. The god has gone to another host. Cristos will be looking for it. Ah!” his sharp cry was in response to a blade of heat that sliced through them both. His mouth fell open, and his breath came in short pants. Svetlana felt the burning, searing pain, but she didn’t let go. If they stopped before the process completed, it would fail. This was her one chance, the chance all born shape-shifters had to convert their mate to one of their kind. If it succeeded, Jasper would live. He would. She refused to think of anything else from now on. He would live. He had to.

162

Lynne Connolly

Chapter Twenty-Three Prêt-à-porter week, held late September in Paris, drew the whole of the fashionable world and many of the unfashionable, too -- the celebrity chasers and the gossip gatherers who followed their targets around the world. Designers showed the money collection, the one that would find its way, in an extremely toned down form, onto the high streets, the avenues, the boutiques, and department stores of the world the following spring. Everyone waited for the Lebec collection. Rumor said that Lebec had scrapped his first ideas, the ones he’d been working on all year, and begun afresh. The whole collection had been assembled in a mere two months, from drawing board to catwalk. After the triumph of the couture collection in July, the assembled masses expected great things from the House of Lebec. Nobody wanted Lebec to fail, particularly since he was about to open a potentially lucrative line of cosmetics and accessories to accompany the new perfume being launched at this show, but designers just below the superstar ranks waited, tongues hanging out in anticipation like dogs slavering over raw meat If Lebec slipped, if sales went down, there’d be a chance for a new, exciting designer, someone who really knew what was happening on the streets. The top Paris designers had no idea, the newcomers sneered, and none of them could sew. If Jasper Lebec cared, he gave no sign of it. After reattaching a button that had come undone from Sylvie Post’s gown, he shoved the needle in the cotton and gave the reel back to Madame Morel who stood, as always, by his side. Jazz music filtered through the curtains. Two women stood by the entrance, one on each side, both supreme in their field. Fiery hair flowed down Svetlana’s back, brushed into a glossy sheen, and her face wasn’t made-up in a zombie automaton look, or a geisha, but as

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

163

herself. She glanced at him once to smile, and he smiled back. No one had seen him smile so much before, especially on the day of a catwalk show. Lines of tension still stressed the corners of his mouth and his miraculously green eyes -- laser surgery, he’d told the press, had negated the need to use the contact lenses he’d worn all his life -- but he seemed more relaxed. Happier. Svetlana lifted her heavily mascaraed eyes and nodded to Sylvie, who nodded back. The music changed, and they sashayed onto the catwalk. Svetlana loved this part, the start of a show, and even better, this was the second day into the week, so the press members were relatively alert. She’d give them something to write about. Her formfitting dress in delicate apricot silk fitted without a wrinkle, the pattern of vines swirled down the sinuous lines to just above her knees. Keeping time with Sylvie, they broke apart at the end, to pose for the photographers, then change places and tantalizingly make their way back, ignoring the shouts for more and the applause. The routine, so well known, took on its usual feverish urgency. Returning to her rack, Svetlana made no effort to get out of the dress, instead allowing herself to be stripped and redressed, while the makeup artist checked her face, and the hairdresser coiled her hair into a long rope then secured it atop her head, ready for the next outfit. Shouts and curses rang about her in a familiar way, the seeming chaos backstage masking the rigid order a show like this always had as its backbone. Then out again, passing four girls coming back. This time, heading down the runway again, she heard the magic words “bias cut” coming from all sides. Jasper’s secret for this show. Designers often used bias cut as it floated across the body, skimming the curves that shouldn’t be there and emphasizing the ones that should. It was an essentially feminine cut but an extravagant one, so Jasper used expensive fabrics and relied on those rather than trims. After a few seasons of rigidly cut, gimmicky clothes, the collection looked like the start of a new era. Svetlana did her job and then some, adding smiles and haughty chin lifts as the outfit demanded. Once she was into the rhythm of a show, she hardly needed to think, but she kept her mind on full alert this time, determined to do Jasper proud. The show passed so quickly that she was standing in the wedding gown before she properly realized it. This time she wore a simple ivory sheath, a masterpiece of the cutter’s art in heavy satin-backed crepe, the better to shape her body. The gown went on over her head, supported by thick shoulder straps in plaited silk, subtle shades of ivory and cream, reflected in the embroidery at the hem. The veil was ivory too, in finest tulle, delicately edged with the same embroidery that edged the skirt. Where the couture gown had been flamboyant and outrageous, this was subtle and stunning. She felt rather than saw Jasper’s eyes on her before she turned her head to look at him. His gaze burned into her, searing over her body. “Now that is what every groom longs to see !”

164

Lynne Connolly

“Thank you.” She hadn’t discussed marriage with him, both willing to let matters take their course. Their devotion to each other was obvious to all who knew them, but since Jasper went into seclusion before each show, working nearly twenty-four-hour days, the press, while aware they were still an item, didn’t know quite how much of an item they were. It had taken Jasper a full week to recover from near death, and time was running scarily short by then, so they’d got to work. Even lovemaking had been sporadic, but they slept together every night and woke together every morning. For Svetlana, that was enough. Almost. “We’ll celebrate after the show,” Jasper promised her, and that was even better. To have a future for which they could plan. Jasper walked across to where she stood, again with an attendant on either side and Madame fussing over the veil. He stood watching her, and Svetlana knew he wasn’t looking at her but the picture she would present to the world in a few moments. When he stepped forward and held out his hand, Madame Morel squeaked in alarm. Ripping the other gown had improved it, but this one presented a picture of elegant perfection. Smudged makeup and a torn veil would look slovenly today. He glanced at Madame and gave her a smile of understanding, something that alarmed the woman even more. She threw up her hands and let out a stream of profane French, but Jasper took no notice. One of the security staff stepped up and put a box into Jasper’s hands. A box large enough for jewelry, which was what it proved to be. He lifted the necklace out. The design she’d seen before, but instead of the huge Désespoir diamond suspended from the pearl and topaz collar, there hung a single, large topaz. Unearthly, it spread warm caramel hues over the watchers. Still smiling, Jasper stepped behind Svetlana and fastened it into place. Svetlana touched the jewel where it rested between her breasts. It felt warm and alive. “I like this one,” she said. Jasper came around to the front to see the effect. “Good, because this one is yours. There’s a small tiara, too. I didn’t want too much attention drawn away from the necklace and the gown, but I thought there should be something.” Svetlana stood silently while Madame climbed her stepladder and fixed the pearl, diamond, and topaz tiara into place on the veil. The music changed, and Svetlana went on alert. That gave her about thirty seconds. With a smile and a thank-you to Jasper, she hurried away to take her place, Madame Morel at her heels, rattling off a series of instructions she didn’t want or need. But it must have made Madame feel better. The music turned to a cool jazz riff played on the saxophone, one of Svetlana’s favorites by Tony Nighthawk, a saxophonist who’d played with Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. Had Jasper had a say in choosing the music? When she contacted him, he remained silent, but amusement pervaded her mind.

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

165

Head up, she began her walk. This time she modified her usual leggy stride to the width of the skirt, but it wasn’t restrictive at all. First, silence. Current fashion was for flamboyance and extravagance, and this gown was subtly beautiful. Her hair flowed down her back, glossed to a high shine, and she carried a small nosegay of tiger lilies and roses, all creams and golds. The applause began when she was half way down the catwalk, and then it didn’t stop. She paused at the end, walked from one side to the other and gave them a ladylike, aristocratic pose but finished with a wink before turning around to walk back. Jasper strode out to meet her. The thunderous applause when he stepped out showed them what the audience thought of the collection. Svetlana, used to assessing applause, sensed the extra notes, and when she opened her mind, a flood of approval awaited her. Jasper’s mandarin-collared jacket was lined with a deep russet orange today, matching the colors of the collection. And he was smiling. He held his hand out to her, and she took it, just as if she were the only person in the room. His concentration was always total, whenever he chose to devote it. “Well done, Jasper. They’ll eat this collection whole.” “You’re responsible, too.” They couldn’t say much because the other models crowded around him, ready to congratulate him, but after thanking them all, with a brusque wave of his hand he made them back off, leaving him with Svetlana, to walk to the front of the catwalk once more. He dipped his hand into his pocket and the crowd gasped. One did not actually use the pockets in a jacket cut as exquisitely as his. But he had. She couldn’t see what he drew out at first until he held it up between his finger and thumb. Cameras flashed. A ring. A simple diamond solitaire. Not the flashy marquise cut ring she’d worn at the first show but something classier, elegant and subtle. “Oh God, a ring. Here, now ?” “Will you marry me? It’s your choice, my love.” He’d never called her that before, not the plain and simple but so meaningful “my love.” She swallowed back the tears threatening to wreck her mascara. “Yes, Jasper.” He slid the ring on her hand and folded his fingers around it, only then lifting his eyes from her hand to her face. She caught her breath at the love she saw blazing from his eyes. “If you don’t get me out of here soon, I’ll ruin your shirt and this gown by crying all over them.” “I don’t care. I love you, Svetlana.”

*****

166

Lynne Connolly

“You didn’t care if I ruined your shirt and jacket?” After a long day and an evening spent wooing the press and buyers from the big department stores, she lay in his arms in the bath at his apartment. He reached for his champagne. “I cared, but I knew you’d have to be half-demented to do that. You’re too much of a professional.” She elbowed him, but he’d already moved away, laughing. He returned and brought his glass in front of her. “Drink?” She leaned forward and took a sip, and his hand cupped her breast, as if by accident, but she knew him too well for that. “Do I have to become a French citizen to marry you?” “It’s not that bad. Nearly but not quite. You’ve already qualified by living in France for more than forty days, but we have some paperwork to go through first. Are we doing this in public? With fanfare?” She relaxed against his chest, loving his gentle massage. “It would be good for the business.” “Spoken like a true Frenchwoman! I’ll design a new gown for you.” “You’ve already designed two bridal gowns for me.” He paused and then circled her nipple with one finger, making her squirm. His cock hardened, and he reached down to adjust it. “I’ll design as many as you want. As long as you marry me.” She heard the click when he put the glass back down, then both his arms went around her. “Actually there’s something else I want to ask you.” “Anything, Jasper.” He grunted. “Don’t be too sure. I want to bond with you.” She sat up with a splash and turned her head to stare at him. “What?” She’d ruled that out a long time ago, resigned to the fact that they couldn’t. But he was right. He was no longer Jarilo; he was Jasper Lebec, firebird shape-shifter. And they could. “Are you sure? Don’t you want a little time to adjust?” “To what? Being a shape-shifter? That, my love, is a delight. I always wanted to fly, and you made it possible. I wanted to be without those hellish memories that haunted me day and night. I am. They’re all gone, all those echoes of people Jarilo inhabited before me. I wanted to be free to love you. I am. My psi powers are weaker than before, but I can strengthen them by training.” And he would, until they were as strong as he could make them. Jasper strove for perfection and usually achieved it. “I want everything, Svetlana. I want to bond with you.” Bonding meant binding their very souls, so when he died, so would she. There would be no hiding from each other, ever. Jasper would have fought against that with everything he had while he still held the spirit of Jarilo. Now as Jasper Lebec, he was free to make his own

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

167

choice. And he wanted to bond with her. “You’re such a private person, Jasper. Are you sure?” “Yes.” His arm tightened around her waist. “Absolutely. But you must be, too. If you need time, you have it. All that you need.” “I don’t need time. I never did. I wanted to bond with you when you were an Ancient.” He went completely still. “You’d have joined with me then?” “Yes.” This time he spun her around, careless of the water sloshing over the edge of the bath, and he took her in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue entered her mouth, tasting, dancing with hers, leading her into delight. He stood, wrapping his arms around her, and stepped out, reaching for a towel. It was large enough to cover them both, and after cursorily drying them, he carried her into the bedroom to lay her down on the bed. This room, where their affair started. It looked the same, startling Svetlana with its mundanity, its normalcy. The bed was still covered with a pale blue duvet, the pillows a shade lighter, the only concession to design in the whole room. Jasper’s drawing table stood tilted up at the other end of the room, a large sheet of paper covered with scribbles and patterns. It could almost be July again, except the windows were closed and shuttered against the darkened night. Light glowed from the bed head, the only lighting Jasper put on. “Enough to see you by,” he murmured, picking up her thought. “All I need.” His eyes glinted green as he turned his head to adjust the glow a little. “I love your eyes.” “It’s a shock when I see them every morning when I shave,” he admitted, coming to lie down beside her. “I’m used to them already. You’re inside them; it’s still you, Jasper.” He stroked across her waist, his palm warming her skin, still slightly damp from the bath. “I want to be with you always, Svetlana. For our always.” She lifted her hand, and he lifted his to press against hers, prayer-fashion, turning his body to skim her breasts with his chest, his thighs just touching hers. “Always,” she said. Their fingers slid between, and they clasped their hands. “Do you know how we do this?” “We join together and open our minds fully to each other. We might partially shift when we bond. Our marks will heat. That’s all I know, the practicality of it. Bonding isn’t something Talents do in public. I’ve seen bonded couples though, and I want that with you.” “I want it too.” He bent forward, pushing her onto her back, and he joined their mouths in a kiss. She opened for him, that small opening leading to more. Her mind tranquil, excitement began to build within her like a small seed of heat in the very center of her body. His cock burned

168

Lynne Connolly

into her lower belly, moving away when he trailed small kisses across her cheek to her ear. After a small invasion with his tongue, he moved to kiss her throat and lap at the sensitive spot at the base. Already she moved restlessly under him, pushing her sensitive nipples against his hair-roughened chest. Anything to relieve their sudden need to be touched. “You want me to touch these?” His murmur hardly registered as a sound but she heard it, her mind perfectly attuned to him. “Yes, Jasper. Yes, please.” Her hands traveled up and down his hard-muscled back, loving the way they bunched and flexed under her fingers. “Mmm, sweetheart, you make me feel so good. Keep doing that. Just like that,” he murmured, and at last, he palmed her breast. Her whole body responded, flinching with the pleasure he brought her. The thought that they would be one increased her sensitivity, pushed her to a peak of sensual awareness. He took his time reaching her breasts, pausing to kiss and lick her skin until she stirred under him restlessly. Wetness percolated onto her thighs, oozing out of her, coaxed by Jasper’s loving. Without warning, he bent and sucked one nipple completely into his mouth, and his free hand came up to plump it up so he could get even more. Massaging and sucking, he brought her higher than any man had before, just by touching her breasts. “Jasper, I didn’t think I could come this way, but oh God --” She broke off when he slid his hand down her body to touch her pussy, insinuating one finger between her hot folds. Now it was his turn to groan. “You’re so wet, my love. Come for me.” He found her clit and pinched it between his finger and thumb. Svetlana had no choice. Howling, she jerked up, her orgasm detonating her body into white-hot sensation. His gasp showed his arousal as much as his hard cock, now seeping moisture onto her leg. “Fuck me, Jasper, please.” “Oh no.” He sounded breathless but he pulled back his control. “You have more coming your way first.” “What about you?” She tried to pull him to her but he resisted. “You’re in my mind, Svetlana. You know how much this is turning me on. I need time to get control back, or this will be over before it’s begun.” He kissed down her body, and with every hot touch, her arousal escalated a bit more. When he touched his tongue to her clit, a jolt went from there right up her body, blossoming in her center to spread over her. When he sucked, she almost came off the bed, but his hands on her hips held her firmly in place. His mouth busy, he spoke to her telepathically. “Bébé, you’re so hot, so wet. I’m going to keep drinking until you can’t stand it

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

169

anymore. They said ambrosia was the food of the gods. They were wrong. It’s this.” As if drinking a glass of fine champagne, he drank her down, and his enjoyment became hers, moved between them like an electric current, driving them both to tingling awareness. Apprehension added to their arousal, but Jasper greedily swallowed as if her juices were the only thing keeping him alive. He opened his mouth over her clit, sucking, while he pushed his tongue inside her pussy, the slurping noises driving Svetlana demented with heated arousal. “Jasper, pleeeeease!” When he sucked one more time, she came. She clamped her thighs around his head, but he turned his head and kissed her. Every part of her seemed completely sensitized, absolutely tensed for his next touch, his next kiss. He pulled away from her with a suddenness that made her gasp. From being all over her, his head burning her body, his tongue seeking out all the secret crevices in her body, he left a chill behind. She lifted her head and saw him, sitting cross-legged on the bed, his cock jutting over his abdomen. It looked red and angry, as if demanding her attention. And then she remembered. The first time they made love, they’d done it like that, on this bed. The picture came into her mind, of Jasper sitting in the same place, with the same need. Only this time, his eyes radiated the love he’d tried so hard to suppress before. He didn’t have to say anything. Taking his outstretched hands, she pulled herself up and knelt over him, hovering her dripping pussy over his cock. He gazed up at her. “I love you, Jasper. I always have. This is only confirmation of the way I feel about you.” Drawing their linked hands to his mouth, he kissed the ring he’d placed on her finger earlier that day. “I know. I love you too, so much. No one else entranced me as you did; nobody called to me as you do. It’s time.” “Yes, it is.” Time to begin their lives together. She controlled her slow descent, opening her mind to the sensations. Every glide of hard flesh against wet skin, every inch. She felt the slight resistance at her entrance when their bodies met and kissed, and she worked herself slowly over him until she fully enclosed his cockhead. Even then, she didn’t relent, refusing to plunge and take. The extra heat on her upper thigh told her the mark all shape-shifters bore was making an early appearance, probably brought on by the orgasms Jasper had already given her. Jasper released her hands to prop his body up on the bed, but he didn’t take his gaze from her face. Together they experienced it, her taking him in, pushing down with a relentlessness that wouldn’t end until he was embedded in her right to the root.

170

Lynne Connolly

But she took her time, feeling every inch of him enter her, concentrating on the sensations as he stimulated the ever-widening ring of her flesh and passed the receptive heat inside her. “You feel like a furnace,” he said, his low murmur adding another facet to their joining. She felt it thrum through his body, vibrating up through his cock into her. Still she slid down. And then her bottom met his thighs, and he lifted his body so his groin met her clit, unhooded and open for his pleasure and for hers. He moved sinuously, and they both groaned. “So deep, Jasper.” “So perfect, Svetlana.” Then she began to move. Her body, toned from the daily workout she forced on herself before big shows, easily controlled their movements, even before she allowed the firebird access to her body. She partially shifted, unable to control the process once she’d initiated it. At first that scared her. She’d always been in control of her bird. But when she saw the red glints in Jasper’s eyes, she realized it was happening to him, too. Jasper’s firebird was a deep, angry crimson, ready for battle. She saw it within him and thought it beautiful. Her bird was a lighter shade, more the color of the flames at the heart of a wood fire burning in the middle of a forest at night, and she let it out now, let it control their loving. She was hardly aware of working herself up and down the thick column of Jasper’s cock until an orgasm sparkled through her, like the champagne they’d drunk earlier, spinning her into another, higher climax. Jasper, firmly embedded in her body and her mind, shared them with her. Feathers popped out of his arms, but they remained arms. Hers did not, and then she felt her tail forming, the feathers growing from the bone at the base of her spine. She lifted it, and it curled over her head, embracing them in their own world of shadow. Jasper threw back his head and shouted as sperm tightened his balls and shot up his cock to erupt within her body. She felt his orgasm, felt her response, and lost all awareness of the world and everything in it. Everything but this man, this time, this minute of perfection that they shared.

***** “Svetlana?” She blinked and opened her eyes. Jasper smiled down at her. “The champagne we opened in the bath is flat now, so I opened another one. I think we have a bonding to celebrate.” “I passed out?”

Department 57: Topaz Delirium

171

“Yes, you did, my love. Very flattering, let me tell you.” He gave her a light kiss.

“We did it?”

“You tell me.”

Svetlana went inside her body. Jasper was there. Everywhere she was, so was he. She

entered his mind without effort. Every door, every secret was open for her to see. She carefully skimmed past some areas, knowing he still held secrets she had no right to know, things vouchsafed to him by others. She gave him a beatific smile. “We did it.” “So we did. Now we live in each other. One heart, one body, one soul.” He kissed her again, this time lingering to caress her lips with his tongue, dip and taste once more before he withdrew. “So now, my love, all we have to do is play. I heard once that champagne tastes much better sipped from a lover’s body. Are you ready to try?” She’d try anything with Jasper Lebec. More than once.

Lynne Connolly Winner of two EPPIEs, for Romantic Suspense and Paranormal Romance, Lynne Connolly is the best-selling author of dark and edgy paranormal romance. She describes her Dept 57 series as “James Bond with claws and fangs,” and it's received five star reviews and recommended reads from major review sites and blogs all over the net. Lynne lives in England with her family and her Muse, a cat called Jack. She writes surrounded by the doll's houses she enjoys making and filling. She also writes sensuous, historical romance and finds writing in two different genres keeps her writing fresh. Her website can be found at http://www.lynneconnolly.com, and you can find her blog at http://www.lynneconnolly.blogspot.com. She'd love to hear from you! Write to her at [email protected]