Page 10 of Dark Shaman: Love Found (The Children Of The Gods #99)

TAMIRA

T he brief respite from the frequent rains was hardly worth celebrating because it was replaced by the afternoon sun beating down mercilessly on the so-called garden, turning the metal fountain into a radiator that made the air shimmer with heat.

Tamira sat on the stone's edge, letting the mist from the cascading water cool her skin while pretending to read.

The book lay open in her lap, some contemporary novel about two sisters traveling the world together after one of them loses her husband to cancer and the other to a younger woman, but she hadn't turned a page in twenty minutes.

The truth was that she couldn't relate, but that was true with most of the human fiction she read. Then again, the subject matter of the novel brought thoughts of one day losing Elias, and it depressed her.

Her eyes drifted to the doors, wishing for him to step through them as he did that day in the harem .

Sarah had told her that Elias had arrived earlier and had been immediately ushered to Navuh's office, and since he was already in the house, perhaps the lord would allow him to see her after they were done with their meeting.

When the glass doors opened and a familiar figure emerged, her heart leaped.

She forced herself to remain seated and not rush to him like some lovestruck girl.

The gardeners were watching, as always, trimming hedges that didn't need trimming, watering plants that would wilt in this heat regardless.

Everything here was for show, including her casual disinterest.

"Lady Tamira," Elias said, his voice carrying a formal tone that was appropriate for public consumption. "Lord Navuh said that you were out in the garden and that you seemed bored. He suggested that I talk to you."

"How thoughtful of him." She closed the book with deliberate care. "Please, sit. The spray from the fountain provides some relief from the heat."

He sat beside her, maintaining a proper distance that felt like a chasm after their nights together. Up close, she could see the tension in his shoulders, and she wondered if it was the separation that was affecting him so.

After all, he'd been meeting with Lord Navuh almost daily, and usually, he didn't look as tense after those encounters.

"How have you been sleeping?" he asked. "Still having problems falling asleep?"

She nodded. "It's hard without that special herb you used to give me. I got so accustomed to it that now I can't sleep without it."

She meant him, and since she hadn't been taking any sleep remedies, he should get her meaning.

"I wish I could procure it for you, but I don't have access to my herb garden."

Elias seemed desperate to take her hand, and she was desperate for him to do that, but it was impossible with all the eyes on them. How were they going to survive until the harem was habitable again?

It suddenly occurred to her that they could communicate in one of the languages both of them knew, and the staff most likely didn't.

"I also missed our Latin language practice."

His eyes widened. "Of course," he answered in Latin. "How have you been?"

"I miss you. Terribly."

His eyes softened. "I miss you, too. Sleeping with Tony is no fun."

She chuckled. "Does he snore?"

"A little. But that's not why I don't like being his roommate. I miss you."

She nodded, holding back tears. "Tula misses Tony. I wish he could come visit. Is there a way you can ask Lord Navuh to allow it? "

He shook his head. "I'm not in a position to ask anything of him."

She didn't ask why because he couldn't answer; instead, she decided to switch to safer topics.

"I've been thinking about the flood," she said, watching a gardener move closer to their position, probably baffled by the foreign language they were speaking.

Still, on the remote chance that some of the gardeners or staff knew Latin, she and Elias needed to be careful about what they said.

"It was such a strange occurrence. In all my years in the harem, we've never experienced anything like it. "

"Natural disasters are unpredictable by definition," Elias said. "Though I suppose that after enough time, even the unpredictable becomes likely."

"Indeed." She traced a finger along the fountain's edge, feeling the sun-warmed stone. "It's remarkable how quickly the evacuation proceeded. Almost as if Lord Navuh had practiced for such an event."

Something flickered in Elias's eyes—agreement, perhaps, or recognition of what she wasn't quite saying. "He values preparedness. The guards certainly seemed to know their priorities."

"Yes." She was unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. "Their priorities were quite clear."

The image of those guards emerging with the heavy chests while people were still fleeing for their lives remained etched in her memory. Whatever was in those containers had been deemed more valuable than the humans who served in the harem.

"The fountain provides excellent ambient noise," Elias said suddenly, his voice dropping just low enough that someone watching from a distance couldn't read his lips. "Almost like the one in your garden in the harem. Together with the language we are speaking, we should be fine."

Her pulse quickened. He was right—the rushing water would mask their conversation from distant listeners, but they still needed to be careful of their body language.

"I've missed our garden talks," she murmured, tilting her head down as if studying her book. "Among other things."

"As have I." His hand moved to rest on the stone between them, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. "The lord suspects that the flood was a sabotage."

"Was it?"

"I don't believe so. But you know how he is. He sees conspiracies everywhere." Elias paused, and she could feel him choosing his words. "He's growing more paranoid. The vision I shared with him suggested betrayal from within his ranks."

"A vision?" She kept her voice neutral, but inside, her mind raced. So that was the service Elias provided. He was some sort of oracle. It explained Navuh's intense interest in keeping him close .

He was obviously forbidden to talk about it, and she wondered how he'd managed to break through Navuh's compulsion to share this with her.

"Do your visions always come true?"

"Visions show possibilities, not certainties." His finger moved slightly, barely brushing hers. "Though some futures seem more fixed than others."

She wanted to press for details, but a movement caught her eye. One of the gardeners had abandoned all pretense of working, standing openly watching them. She straightened, pulling her hand back to her lap.

"The heat grows unbearable," she said in English, which was the language she and Elias mostly used. "Perhaps we should move to the shade."

There was precious little shade in this stark garden, but a few sculptural trees created small pools of shadow.

They relocated to one near the back wall, settling on the decorative boulders that served as informal seating.

It was marginally cooler, and more importantly, it put the fountain between them and the nearest gardener.

"Better," she said, though the rock was uncomfortable and hot against her legs through the thin dress. "Now, tell me truthfully. How are you? These summonses must be draining if you are expected to provide visions every time you see him."

"I manage," he said, but she heard the weariness beneath the words. "He wants assurances that his power is secure. I give him what I can. "

"And what if you can't give him what he wants?"

A bitter smile touched his lips. "I improvise."

The admission hung between them, dangerous and honest. She understood the weight of it, the trust he was showing by revealing even this much. In Navuh's world, everyone lied to survive. The fact that Elias admitted to it, even obliquely, spoke volumes.

"We all do what we must," she said quietly. "I've told myself that for so long, I almost believe it."

"Tamira—"

"No," she interrupted, needing to say this while she had the courage.

"I need you to understand something. What we have, what we've found together, is the first real thing I've felt in centuries.

Everything else has been playacting, going through the motions of existence.

But with you..." She risked a glance at his face, saw her own intensity reflected there.

"With you, I remember what it feels like to be alive. "

"You humble me." His voice was rough. "I'm just a man, Tamira. A man with too many secrets and not enough truth to offer you."

"I don't need all your truths," she said, though part of her desperately wanted them. "I just need this, whatever this is between us, and I appreciate your trust in me. I know you were not allowed to tell me what you did."

He nodded. "It's the only way we can bond while everyone is watching us. Little truths that we offer each other instead of kisses and caresses. "

"That's sweet, but I want both."

"Tell me something real," he whispered. "Something you've never told another soul."

The request caught her off guard. In their week of nights together, they'd shared bodies and philosophical discussions, but very little of their personal histories.

It was safer that way, maintaining some boundaries even in intimacy.

But sitting here in this inadequate shade, with the fountain singing between them and the walls, she found herself wanting to give him this piece of herself.

"I had a son," she said, the words emerging like shards of glass.

"Maybe I still do. I don't know whether he still lives.

It was more than a century ago, but I assume that he was induced and turned immortal.

I just don't know if he fell in battle. I don't even know his name other than the name I gave him, and I know that was changed as soon as he was taken away from me. "

His hand found hers despite the watching eyes, fingers interlacing with desperate strength. "Tamira..."