reviews_and_ramblings | Excerpt: Touch by Clare London

Touch by Clare London
Release Date: 05/2009
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Publisher Link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=1818

Blurb: A powerful but pampered lord, Chariz has no interest in a single slave thrown at his feet, until he finds out the man is no slave at all. Oriel may be an empath--or a Magician--or a charlatan, even, and his mysterious allure draws Chariz closer. But Oriel's touch is a prize that others crave, too, putting him in mortal danger. Chariz must decide whether he will pay the price of Oriel soothing his desires and needs, when that price may demand a shocking sacrifice - from them both.

(note : this was previously published in a shorter form in the anthology Masquerade)

Excerpt:

We stood outside the detention cell, listening to the harsh, wheezing breath of the man inside. This deep within the household, the walls were thick stone and damp with stale condensation. I’d been here many times to deal with prisoners. I had often welcomed the harsher face of justice, but now I couldn’t imagine being a more reluctant visitor.

“Oriel, I don’t want you to do this.”

He looked up at me, eyes clouded with worry, though he tried to look brave. “Chariz… sir. It’s no worse than I’ve done before—than has been done to me before.” He looked younger than he had in the daylight, smaller somehow and more vulnerable. He glanced over to where my mother stood with her pathetic Magician and a selection of her grooms chosen for their companionship of muscle rather than mental ability. “I will be glad to help the Lady.”

I felt sick in my stomach. I’d never felt fear like this before. I could not describe what it was nor identify why it struck me so keenly. It should have shamed me, and it was important to me that I kept face in front of the Lady. Oriel had only to be near the prisoner, to try to find out from his intentions whether he was friend or foe. That was all. Then I would take him away from here, no matter what insults she might use on me, and go swiftly back to my room. I would bathe him in the warmest scented water, feed him the freshest fruits until he laughed and protested he’d had enough and juice dribbled from the corners of his mouth, and then roll him naked on my bed until his skin was flushed with need and his legs stretched up to my shoulders.

Oriel smiled slightly and blushed. I suspected he could feel the desire that swamped me. He touched me once on the arm, and then he went to stand beside the grooms to be let into the cell. We would watch him from the safety of the viewing area outside, a small, walled-in platform where we could see through the high window of the cell. I stood next to my mother, though my body shrank away from her. She knew I disapproved of this whole investigation.

The Magician waved the grooms and Oriel through into the cell. The door closed solidly behind them, the wooden frame shuddering against the force. They locked it, too, though I didn’t imagine there was any physical threat from the silver merchants’ man. I could see him through the window, laid out on a pallet set against the far wall. He looked as if he were ill, and he didn’t stand up even when the grooms announced their authorization from the Lady. His face was a sallow, shadowed color which was surely not entirely due to his dank, new guest quarters.

The Magician waved again at the grooms through the window, and they pushed Oriel down on to a chair beside the pallet. He sat without a complaint. One of the grooms let his hand linger too long on Oriel’s shoulder, kneading the flesh as if he measured him for market. I marked that man at once for future attention. Then they stepped back against the wall, out of our sight. Oriel stretched out one of his slim, graceful hands and rested it on the prisoner’s arm. That was all he did.

My stomach lurched. I didn’t know how it could happen, for I wasn’t touching Oriel or even in the same room, but I felt my heartbeat skip gently and re-settle in a different beat—one that I knew with certainty was Oriel’s. It was slower than mine and made my muscles loosen and relax, just like they did when he hugged me for no particular reason. Just like they did when I’d slip into the bath alongside him, spilling water on my rugs and making him laugh and complain in equal measures, just like they did when he sang quietly—and unfortunately quite tunelessly—in my ear at night. Just like they did whenever I was with him.

And then he sat bolt upright. His head went back, and his back arched awkwardly. My heartbeat started to race, and my hands clenched at my sides.

“What is it?” My mother was questioning her Magician. “What have you told him to look for? Has he finished?”
I wasn’t looking at her or her minions, not even at Oriel. I was staring at the prisoner on the pallet and the glint in his eye, seeing reflections of the limpid light from through the window and watching the glistening trickles of water down the walls above him. He moved the hand by his side in a surprisingly graceful shape, then back again. Then he followed the pattern again, the movements weak but clear, again and again.

I leaped from the platform, knocking a couple of housemaids to the side and shocking everyone. I ran down to the door and started to pull at its lock. “Get him out!” I yelled. The man who stood at the door as guard was staring at me with confusion. I turned back to look at my mother. “Get him out! That’s no silver merchant’s clerk! There’s no plot to steal our treasures or even to kidnap Oriel. This has all been a distraction, a sleight of hand. He’s a Magician himself! Can’t you see?” I pulled helplessly at the door while the bemused guards looked to the Lady for direction. I glared at the Magician by her side, his face white and his eyes shocked. “Look at the prisoner’s hands!” I shouted. “It’s some kind of spell or incantation. I’ve seen similar things before when your charlatans are entertaining my mother with your supper tricks. But this is something else, something more dangerous.”

I left the guards fumbling with the door lock, and I ran back. I pushed through the Lady’s grooms as easily as if they were weakened children, reaching for the Magician and grabbing him by the throat. “Why aren’t you in there with them, you coward? Can’t you recognize your own putrid kind in that treacherous bastard?”

“Chariz!” My mother cried out in amazement, but I heard the cell door swinging open at last.

I loosened my grip and let the feeble fool crumple back down at her feet. I turned back toward the cell. “What are you doing to him?” If the guards hadn’t moved forward, physically pushing me back, I would have rushed right in. The grooms who had gone in with Oriel came stumbling out, and I wrenched at my captors’ arms, trying to force my way around, to go to him: to go to Oriel. But I didn’t need to, for he came out shortly after, rubbing his eyes as if he’d stepped out from a dark place. His limbs were trembling and his feet were unsteady, but he could still walk. He was breathing very heavily. I knew that, even if I hadn’t seen the awkward rise and fall of his chest, because I felt the same throbbing in my own chest. We were together, we breathed as one. He stopped outside the door, leaning against the wall, and lifted his head toward me. It seemed to take a great effort.

I looked into his eyes, and the blood screamed in my veins. I burst free of the guards and took a step toward him.

Oriel crumpled to the floor, senseless.