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Perilous Flames: A House L'u-cif-er Story (ch. 2) by Acton Bell L'u-cif-er Kara Muraski's arms trembled with the effort it took to keep from sweeping the woman in front of him into his arms. He had found her. After nearly twenty years of waiting, he had found his Elska mate again.
He acknowledged without really hearing the introduction of the officer next to her; he was busy tracing the child he had known in the woman she had become. The pale skin lightly spattered with freckles and the wide-set sherry colored eyes were the same. As a small child, her hair had been blonde, but the short cut metallic shades of copper, gold, and bronze suited her better. It gave her the appearance of a jörð. Her height, or rather her lack of inches, also invited the comparison to an elf. The Colonel was not a tall woman; her head came well below his shoulder. But she moved with a brisk grace that hinted at both strength and endurance.
Her voice was cool and throaty as she invited him to follow her into the base; but Muraski had seen her eyes widen when she saw his face. She remembered him. She had been so very young at their one and only meeting, but she remembered him at some level.
It was just as well the fierceness of the wind and the brisk pace she set precluded conversation. He could not have attended to it. He could feel her curiosity, her wariness, her fear. He wanted to comfort her, ease her mind; but this was neither the place nor the time to do so, not with the lieutenant with them. Muraski could only send her reassurance through the link they shared and hope she understood.
The stillness of the base was a welcome relief after the onslaught of the wind. The cold had not bothered him. As a pyrokinetic, he was always warm, and it was with a sense of relief that he shrugged off the heavy traveling cloak.
Her step stuttered and she shot a quick glance at him before turning her attention to the door in front of them. He thought her fingers trembled on the keypad, but he couldn't be sure. It might have been because of the cold. She stepped through the door, Atambe right behind. Muraski followed.
"If you'll follow Lieutenant Atambe, Lord L'u-cif-er, he can give you a tour of the base and answer any of your questions."
"And where will you be, Colonel Lind?" The question came out far rougher than he had intended, being without House inflection of any kind; but the quick burst of possessiveness he felt had taken him by surprise. He didn't need their link to tell him she was annoyed at his presumption. Before she could speak, he said, "My apologies Colonel. I had hoped we would have a chance to speak, but I understand my early and unexpected arrival has upset your schedule. You have duties to attend to." His tone was pure House Formal Apology to an Equal. The Council of Houses would have been appalled to hear him put a Terran on par with a Byshen, and he doubted if Brenda understood what he had just done, but it soothed his conscience to have done so. He had thought he would have more control, that he could meet this woman who had haunted his dreams since he was fifteen without giving way to impatience, but it seemed he was wrong.