A dozen times since yesterday, she’d debated running away to another enclave until Zeeland’s visit was over. Or even just hiding in her room with the door locked. But with Melisande hovering over her life, her room was no refuge.
And she knew Zeeland much too well. He was as stubborn as an ox and as determined as a jungle cat hunting prey. If he decided he wanted to see her, no locked door stood a chance against him. Nor could she flee anywhere that he wouldn’t find her.
If he wanted to find her. A very big if.
No, there was no choice but to grit out his visit and hope he paid her little attention. The hardest part was going to be pretending to be indifferent herself.
She dressed quickly in a sleeveless turquoise sheath she’d picked up at Lord & Taylor’s a couple of months ago with Serenity and Cambria, then sat at the dressing table and applied her makeup with a light, nervous hand. Therians might live forever, but they kept up with the fashions and took pride in good grooming. Especially when they were expecting company, as they were tonight.
Cambria and Serenity had been cooking all day, preparing for the impromptu welcome-home dinner for Zeeland. According to Cambria, a few of the Feral Warriors might even make an appearance. Though all Therian males tended to tower over their human counterparts, the Ferals were the biggest, the strongest, and without a doubt, the least civilized of the race. Things tended to get interesting when the Ferals appeared.
But the only one she both longed and dreaded to see was Zeeland.
Pulling the elastic band out of her hair, Julianne let the dark waves tumble around her shoulders. She grabbed her hairbrush and was nearly finished brushing out her hair when she felt that all-too-familiar trip of power.
Her breath caught. Fear rippled along the surface of her skin as an unnatural, pine-scented breeze blew through her room, raising the hair on her arms.
In the dressing-table mirror, Melisande appeared behind her, a ghostly figure of a woman.
Julianne shot to her feet and whirled, backing away from her nemesis.
“Melisande.” The name shot from her throat, a low burst of air.
The spiritlike woman floated before her, glowing a faint reddish orange. Petite and slender, Melisande dressed like a warrior of old in a brown tunic and tan leggings, a knife strapped at her waist. Her face was deceptively delicate and pretty, framed by golden blond hair pulled back in a long braid.
She looked sweet and harmless to anyone who didn’t notice the brittle look in her eyes or the cruel twist of her mouth.
For a thousand years, the Therians had believed Melisande’s race, the Ilinas, extinct. For a thousand years, they’d been wrong.
“The moonstone, Julianne.” Melisande’s eyes snapped with warning.
Once, Julianne had demanded to know why the woman needed it. She’d been told the Queen of the Ilinas was ill and in need of the stone to heal her.
Julianne lifted her hands, palms out. “I’ve looked everywhere. Over and over. Give me a hint, Melisande. Anything to narrow the search.”
Melisande scowled. “It’s somewhere in this house. I can feel its power, but not its source.” Melisande stepped…floated…closer. “You’re useless, little sister. Worthless. But you will find that moonstone.”
Melisande’s bright blue eyes gleamed with threat. “I’m giving you one more day, Julianne. When I return tomorrow, you’ll give it to me.”
Julianne stared at her, a dull quaking beginning deep inside, half fury, half fear. “You’re not listening. I’ve looked everywhere. It’s not here.”
“It’s here! If I could search for it myself, I would.”
But she couldn’t because the Ilinas were determined to keep their existence a secret. From what little Julianne had been able to ascertain, the Ilinas had faked their extinction a thousand years ago in order to hide from a dangerous enemy, to protect their race. And they would kill to keep that secret.
Something Julianne’s mother had failed to do when she’d told Julianne’s father her true heritage. That she was half-Ilina. They’d both paid for that bit of honesty.
Julianne would never tell anyone. Ever. She would never endanger the people she loved in that way.
Melisande’s small hand clenched around the hilt of her knife. “If you haven’t found the moonstone by tomorrow, you’ll feel my wrath, little sister.” Her voice turned low and terrible as her lip curled nastily. “Tomorrow, one of your friends will die.”
Julianne jerked as if she’d been hit, her jaw dropping. “You can’t do that! They don’t know anything. I’ve told them nothing. I’ve kept them safe!”
“Then find the moonstone!”