Chainfire: Chainfire Trilogy Part 1

"Are you sure?"

Richard nodded. "I've seen Shota do this before. The first time I ever saw her, in that exact same place, she appeared to me as my deceased mother."

Cara glanced over at him. "That's a rather cruel deception."

"She said that it was a gift, a kindness, meant only to briefly bring a cherished memory to life."

Cara huffed skeptically. "So why would she be trying to make you remember Nicci?"

Richard looked over at Cara, but didn't have an answer for her.

When they finally reached the rock, the woman gracefully rose and turned to him. Blue eyes he knew met his gaze.

"Richard," the woman who looked like Nicci said. Her voice had the exact same silken quality as Nicci's. The low neckline of the laced bodice seemed to Richard to be cut even lower than he recalled. "I'm so pleased to see you again." She rested her wrists on his shoulders, casually locking her fingers together behind his head. The air around her seemed filmy, giving her a soft, blurred, surreal appearance. "So very pleased," she added with breathless affection.

She could not have looked or sounded any more like Nicci if it had been Nicci herself. The illusion was so convincing that Cara stood with her jaw hanging. Richard almost felt a sense of relief at seeing Nicci again.

Almost.

"Shota, I've come to talk with you."

"Talk is for lovers," she said, a coy smile seeping through her exquisite features.

She slipped her fingers into the hair at the back of his head as her soft smile warmed affectionately. Her eyes, joining in her smile, reflected her delight at seeing him. She seemed at that moment more pleased, more quietly satisfied, more at peace than he had ever seen Nicci look. She also looked so much like Nicci that he was having trouble convincing himself to keep in mind that it was Shota. If nothing else, she acted far more in character with Shota than with Nicci. Nicci would never be so forward. It had to be Shota.

She gently pulled him closer. At that moment, Richard had trouble trying to think of a reason to resist. None came presently to mind. He couldn't stop gazing into her alluring eyes. He felt himself being swept away with the simple pleasure of gazing at Nicci's entrancing face.

"And if that is your offer, Richard, then I accept."

She had drifted so close to him that he could feel the sweet breath of her words on his face. Her eyes closed. Her soft lips met his in a slow, luxurious kiss that he did not return. Nonetheless, he didn't force her away, either.

As her arms drew him tighter into the embrace, into the kiss, it seemed to scramble his thinking and completely immobilize him. Even more than the kiss, that embrace awakened a terrible longing for the comfort of steadfast support, sheltering devotion, and tender acceptance. More than anything, the promise of that long-absent solace was what disarmed him.

He could feel every inch, every curve, every rise and fall of her firm body pressing against his. He knew that he was trying to think of something other than that kiss, that embrace, that body, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. In fact, he was having a great deal of difficulty making himself think at all.

It was because of that kiss. It was a kiss that made him forget who he was, or why he was there, even though, oddly enough, it didn't seem to be a kiss that necessarily promised love, or even lust. He wasn't sure what it promised. It almost seemed to be conditional.

One thing he did know was that it was very different from the kiss Nicci had given him back in the stable in Altur'Rang just before he'd left. That kiss had carried the extraordinary pleasure and serenity of magic, if not other things. The real Nicci had been behind that kiss. Despite the visual illusion, this was not Nicci. This was a kiss that seemed irresistible, as a great weight might be irresistible, but not really all that — erotic. Even so, it threatened to tangle him up in its cautious questions and silent promises.

"Nicci-or Shota-or whoever you are," Cara growled through clenched teeth, fists at her sides, "just what do you think you're doing?"

She pulled away, turning her head slightly, her cheek resting against Richard's, to gaze curiously at Cara. Delicate fingers idly twined their way through the hair at the back of his head. Richard's mind was reeling.

Cara backed away a bit as Shota-in-Nicci's-skin, with her other hand, tenderly cupped the Mord-Sith's chin.

"Why, nothing more than what you want."

Cara backed another step so that her face would be out of range of the comforting hand. "What?"

"This is what you want, isn't it? I would think that you would be grateful that I'm helping you with your grand plan."

Cara planted her fists on her hips. "I don't know what in the world you're talking about."

"Why so angry?" The smile turned sly. "I didn't come up with this. You did. This is your plan-the one you hatched all by yourself. I'm simply helping you bring it to life."

"What makes you think —?" Cara seemed to run out of words.