e. She must have been mightily upset and put out of sorts by his brashness, for instead of trying to attack him with her telepathic power again, she reared back a hand and tried to slap him across the face. That outrage became shock as he whipped a hand up and caught her hand before it reached him, creating a loud _smack_ that caused her hand to instantly stop. He closed his fingers around her hand quickly and held it absolutely rigid. The single male Faey who had been accompanying her stared in awed shock as Jason held the woman's hand absolutely still, as the muscles in her arm flexed and bunched as she tried to pull away from him. He felt her gather herself to try to overwhelm his mind with her power, but he closed his grip on her fingers, which caused her to gasp in pain.

Without saying a word, he pulled her hand down from his head with raw physical power, as her arm continued to struggle to resist his strength, until he had her hand down by her waist. Then he pulled it up and down in a mocking version of a handshake. Then he leaned in close to her ear. "If you try that again, I'll rip off your arm," he promised in a low tone that conveyed every bit of his own outrage. He loosened his grip slightly, and she ripped her hand away from him as if she'd stuck it in a fire.

She glared at him, but her expression slowly softened, until she actually smiled. Then she laughed.

_Faey_!

"Now I see why you gave them so much trouble," she said approvingly, shaking her hand before her. "Enjoy the opera. Varn," she said imperiously as she turned and sauntered away. The male Faey stared at him for a moment, then scurried after her.

"Why can't you be more like _him_?" she demanded in Faey as they merged with the crowd.

"I can be commanding, dear," he said in a placating tone.

What in bloody hell was _that_ about?

"Are you out of your mind?" Jyslin hissed at him in disbelief as she came up to him, grabbing his arm in a very tight, almost painful grip. "I told you to stay out of trouble!"

"She started it," he said pugnaciously.

"You dink, you don't argue with _them_!" she hissed in a very low tone. "She's a _noble_!"

"A noble?" he asked. "She certainly doesn't look, well, noble."

"She's a Zarina," she said in hushed tones, hustling him towards the auditorium. "Zarina Marci Trillane. She rules what used to be Jefferson, Saint Bernard, and Saint James Parishes. She's responsible for the rice and sugar farming that they do down there."

"What did she do?" she asked curiously as they went through the doors and into the large theater proper.

"She tried to invade my mind," he said stiffly. "And I mean _all the way_. I know how to avoid that, so I did that, then I put an image of her being screwed by a donkey out where she could see it. That made her try to slap me."

"She did, huh?" she asked, pursing her lips. "How did you avoid it?"

"The same way I hid from you," he answered. "If you can't find anything to look at, it doesn't matter how deep you can get into my mind. After she started pushing in past that, I felt where she was in my mind, and sort of pushed her out."

"Pushed her out?" she asked in surprise as they started down a row _very_ far from the stage, almost in the back. "How could you push her out?"

"Well, I realized that if I could feel her in my mind, exactly where she was, then I could do something about it," he said hesitantly. "I feel it when Faey brush me all the time, and I can always feel it when they try to push past that. They feel around the edges of my pattern of thought, looking for a way through it. Well, I could feel exactly where she was, so I just kinda pushed her out."

"You pushed her out," she said combatively as they sat down in the middle of the row, like she didn't believe him.

"I'm about to push you out of that chair," he said in a nasty tone.

She gave him a dirty look, then blew out her breath. "Sorry, but you can't _do_ that," she told him.

"You're wrong, because I _did_," he said pugnaciously. "Maybe you don't know as much about humans as you thought."

She gave him a very long look, and it was _serious_. "Maybe... you're right," she said in a low, grim tone. "Maybe we don't know as much about humans as we thought. We can't leave right now, Jason, but when we have a chance to get out of here without attracting attention, we absolutely _have_ to go somewhere very private and very quiet, and have a long talk."

"Why not now?"

"It'll attract attention," she said, looking around. "We don't want to do that. Not right now. Not until Zarina Marci forgets about what happened. If she stops and thinks about it, you might get into a serious pile of trouble." She looked around again. "We'll leave after the first intermission."

"What's the matter with you?" he demanded.

"We'll talk about it after we get out of here," she answered in a quiet, professional tone, like a Marine about to walk into a prospective battlefield. "Until we do, don't do _anything_ to attract attention to us. I want Zarina Marci to completely forget about you."

"You think she's going to try to get back at me?"

"This has nothing to do with that. Now be still."

"You're creeping me out here, Jyslin," he said honestly.

"Don't make me muzzle you, Jason," she warned, and he could tell that she _wasn't_ kidding.

This sudden change in her attitude, her very demeanor, shocked him. This was a side of her he'd never seen before, when she was all serious. But something had spooked her, something about the Zarina, and he didn't think he wanted to annoy her at the moment. Not because he was afraid of her, but she seemed honestly upset, and he didn't want her to worry. So he fell silent and sat there as other Faey started filing into the auditorium.

Maya and Vell took the seats to Jyslin's left, and Zora and her husband, Oren, took the seats to Jason's right. Sheleese, who had no date, sat down immediately behind Jyslin. She leaned over the seat between them, a smile on her face. "We were looking for you two," she said. "We figured you'd dragged him into some dark corner."

"Not now," Jyslin said in a brusque tone, but the look she leveled on Sheleese made her instantly pull back. "Was the Zarina still in the lobby when you came in?" she asked.

"I don't remember seeing her," Maya answered, her playful smile melting from her face.

"Sheleese, drift back out into the lobby and see if she's still there. Send tight, Marci is very strong with her talent," Jyslin ordered, in a crisp manner. "She's not your usual lazy noble."

"She'll never sense me," Sheleese grinned, then she got up and sauntered back down the row, towards the aisle.

"You know her?" Jason asked.

"I've met her a few times," she answered. "Her sending is very strong, and that's an indicator of her power. She's not to be sneezed at. She could easily make it into the Marines."

Jason remembered that powerful telepathic ability was a requirement for being a Marine. If she was strong enough to be a Marine, then she was indeed strong. Zora, Sheleese, Maya, and Jyslin were probably four of the strongest telepaths in the theater.

"What's the angle here, Jys?" Zora asked.

"Jason and the Zarina had a little encounter," Jyslin answered. "I want to get him out of here before she realizes exactly what happened and comes looking for him. I wanted to wait until the first intermission, but if I can slip him out the door before the opera starts, that's just as good. So long as she doesn't even see him. She's probably forgotten what happened, but if she sees him, she's going to remember."

"There are exits by the men's restroom," Vell announced. "A side exit. It didn't have an alarm on it. I think it's an additional exit for after the performances end, so everyone isn't bottled up at the front door."

"That's the better tactical choice," Maya said seriously. "It's not more than fifteen _shalka_ from the lobby door to the men's restroom."

A _shalka_ was a Faey unit of measurement that was about fifteen inches long. Fifteen of them was roughly equivalent to about eighteen feet.

"Marci is still out there," Jyslin frowned, putting a finger to her temple. "Wait, she's near the women's restroom. That's on the far side, and there are still plenty of people in the lobby."

"Screen?" Maya suggested.

"It should work," Jyslin agreed. "Alright everyone, up. We're going to sneak Jason out the side door. I'll have Sheleese distract the Zarina, and we'll slide him out of here."

Jason was a little confused, and not a little surprised at this commanding tone Jyslin was using. Then again, she was a squad _sergeant_, and that meant that she did do a little commanding. The other Faey obeyed her without question, hinting to him that her authority as a Marine spilled over even into this purely civilian event. He found him caught up in this sudden military exercise, as gowned and robed Faey hustled him up out of his seat and into the aisle, then against the flow of traffic up to the lobby door. They hesitated only a second before Jyslin boldly stepped out into the lobby, pulling Jason along with her by the hand. The other Faey filed out immediately behind him, blocking anyone's view of him.

"Duck down a little!" Jyslin hissed. "By Galla's moons, she'll see the top of your head!"

Jason obediently ducked down just enough to hide his head, which was usually visible over most crowds. Jason was six feet two inches tall, which was just enough for him to be considered tall. They hustled him to a large door by the men's restroom, which had an _exit_ sign clearly mounted above it, in both English and Faey.

They ended up on Rampart Street, and Jyslin immediately started walking away from Canal Street. "What's this all about?" he demanded.

"I couldn't leave you in there," she said. "I'll explain in the limo."

"We'll have to call the driver."

"I already did. He's on the way."

"But-nevermind," he grunted.

They waited only for a couple of minutes before the limo pulled up by the side of the street. She made sure he got in first, the got in behind him quickly. The limo pulled away from the curb, and when it did so, Jyslin blew out her breath in relief, putting her hand to her chest. "That was almost as nerve-wracking as a combat patrol," she admitted.

"Alright, we're in the limo. What's going on?"

She looked him right in the eyes. "Jason, there is _no way_ you should have been able to eject Marci from your mind. That kind of action requires _talent_. But you're a human, so you don't have any."

He gave her a suspicious look.

"Hey, I have no idea either," she told him. "It must be your training. It gives you abilities that are _this close_ to talent." She held her thumb and forefinger up, the tiniest of margins apart. "I didn't want the Zarina to think about what you did. She'd expect it from a Faey, but _not_ from a human. If she got curious, she might give you trouble. _Real_ trouble. As in hauled down to the detention center and having a Faey tear our your soul kind of trouble."

Jason shuddered at the very thought of that. "I-Thanks," he said after a moment.

"Hey, no problem," she smiled. "But you owe me now," she winked.

"I appreciate your help, but don't think I'm going to let you hold it over my head," he warned.

"I'm not. But you do owe me the opportunity to change the deal a little."

"How so?" he asked warily.

"Let's go see a movie," she said with a bright smile. "I think I'll have to go home and change first, but let's go out to the Palace in Metairie and see a movie.'

"What's wrong with that?"

"It's a bit too high class for a movie theater," she said with a light smile. "What do you say?"

He debated that for a moment, but really couldn't find any reason to say no. He did still owe her a date, and a movie sounded better than that opera any day. "Alright," he agreed.

"Good. Let me tell the limo driver to take us to my place. I'll release him and we'll take a cab to the movies."

He wasn't too keen on the idea of going to her place, but he couldn't really say anything. She _did_ need to change, and it would be rude for him to stand out on the sidewalk and wait for her.

A little while later, after crossing over onto the West Bank, he found himself in Belle Chasse, where the former naval air station was located. The limo was allowed onto the base, and Jyslin must have been guiding him with telepathic messages, for he pulled up to one of the houses in the base housing section of the base. It was a cookie cutter house, a small affair that looked to be two bedrooms, a ranch style house on the corner of two narrow streets. He hadn't thought that the Marines would be living in the houses on the old base, but then again, since they were here and empty, why not?

Jyslin got out and then helped him out, not that he needed help, then leaned into the passenger side window to talk to the driver. "Just go back the way you came," she told him. "Do _not_ wander around. If you get lost, just park the limo and wait for a patrol car to come, and they'll show you the way out."

"I'll be fine, miss. I've been on the base before," the driver answered calmly.

"Good. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he answered as she stepped, back, and the limo pulled away.

They watched it go. "Come on, let me show you my house," she invited.

They entered through the front door-which wasn't locked, he noticed-and she turned on the lights to reveal a strangely _human_ living room. The carpet was a bit worn, gray shag, and she had decorated her living room with two matching large, thick-cushioned sofas that flanked a large glass coffee table, which faced a television. She had a vidlink console on the wall to the left, and the open area to the right led into a small kitchen filled with aging appliances. A hallway to the left led down to the two bedrooms, and probably to the bathroom as well, and there was a glass paned door on the far wall that led to the porch and back yard. Two standing lamps were on the side walls, and she had several works of art hanging on the walls. They were all abstract, geometric shapes and colors arranged in intriguing patterns, except for one, which was a portrait of a male Faey, nude, reclining on a couch before a waterfall. The painting was impressionist, the borders enticingly indistinct, the features curiously vague. Seeking out detail made the portrait nonsensical, but stepping back and taking it all in at once produced a coherent image.

"You like that one?" she asked as she started taking off her shoes. "My mother painted it. It's my father."

"Your mother's a good artist," Jason said honestly.

"She made all these. She sends me a new one every year," she said. "Want one? I have a few in the other rooms. I'm starting to run out of places to hang them."

"No thanks," he said.

"I'll show them to you," she declared. "Come on."

Trapped by his manners, he allowed her to take him down the hall, to the first bedroom, which she had converted into a study. She had a panel computer on a desk in the middle of the room, but a large desktop one, not the portables that the students used, complete with a hard keyboard. A bookshelf holding several books and boxes of memory sticks was behind the desk, flanked by two floor lamps. There were six paintings on the walls, all of them abstract geometric paintings. "This is where I do my correspondence courses," she told him. "I'm a student, just like you."

She showed him her bedroom next, which was larger than her study. She had a very large bed dominating the middle of the left wall, a king-size with a large oak headboard holding tiny figurines, books, and little knick-knacks that made the place look strangely homey. She had a dresser on the far wall, a smaller one on the same wall as the door that had a mirror mounted on it, a large cherrywood chest at the foot of the bed, and a pair of nightstands on either side of the bed. A wire stand of sorts was in the far corner, by a door that probably led to a bathroom, on which hung her armor. Her rifle was hanging on pegs on the wall by her armor. Four paintings were in this room, the one hanging over the bed obviously Jyslin when she was a very young child, wearing a little blue dress and holding a small little animal that looked like a gray-furred fox kit with two tails. It was not impressionist, it was a painting so carefully done that it looked like a picture.

"Now that's good," he said in sincere appreciation.

"That's me," she smiled. "When I was six, with our pet vulpar Tunny."

"Odd little animal. I've seen an animal with two tails."

"Tunny belonged to my grandparents. When they died, she came to live with us."

"She must be old."

"She's nearly fifty."

Jason gave her a surprised look as she opened a drawer in the dresser on the same wall as the door.

"They live about seventy years. She's still alive, but she sleeps a lot now. She's not as playful as she was when I was a child."

"Vulpars are truly _lifetime_ pets," she told him as she quietly closed the door. She came up to him and put her hand on his upper arm, sliding it along his forearm, until she had a grip on his wrist. Then she chuckled ruefully. "I did _not_ plan this," she said to him with a slightly contrite smile, but her eyes were sultry, soft, and seductive, the gray of them seeming to glow in the light of the overhead light.

This was what he was hoping to avoid. He put a hand on hers and tried to pull it away, but she simply put her other hand on his side, gripping the hand that had grabbed hers to pull it away. "Jyslin, I'm not interested."

"You're such a liar," she said with a throaty chuckle. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not interested in me."

That was the one thing he could not do, because he _was_ interested in her, and she knew it. But he would not get involved with a Faey, no matter how much he liked her or how much he was attracted to her. "I can't," he told her. "I won't, Jyslin. You're a Faey. You know how I feel about Faey."

"I'm _not_ the Imperium, Jason," she said with gentle adamance. "I'm just a girl, a girl who wants to be with you." She put her hand on his neck, and he grabbed it to pull it away. "Jason," she said with a yearning that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and produced an immediate urge within him. "I'll make you one more bet, a final challenge," she said. "Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me. If you can kiss me and walk out that door, I'll never bother you again," she promised, caressing his side in a manner that made his skin hot beneath his shirt and her fingers. "But if you kiss me and can't walk out that door, we spend the night together, and you can't shut me out after tonight. You have to give me the chance to be your friend, the same way you let Symone be your friend."

He was very worried about the idea of it, but if he didn't agree, she would just keep trying, and that would sour their relationship to the point where she'd lose any chance at all with him. Kissing her would give her a chance to try to inflame his passion, and that was why she was offering the challenge. It was her one and only chance to seduce him. But the opportunity to get her out of his life was too much to ignore. He didn't like the idea of it, because he _did_ like her, he _did_ find her very attractive, but she was the ultimate temptation, Eve's apple, luring him down a road that would compromise his principles and turn him into the willing slave to the Imperium he did not want to become.

When he didn't immediately answer, she looped her hand around his neck and pulled him down, then kissed him. Jason had kissed many girls in his life, but he had _never_ been kissed like that. She kissed him with such passion, such lingering tenderness, such sweet desire that his resistance against her withered in the face of her ardor. Before he knew what was happening, he had his arms around her, kissing her back with equal passion, admitting to her and to himself how attracted he was to this beautiful, interesting, sensual, intelligent, funny, and dead sexy woman. The fact that she was a Faey now meant absolutely nothing. She was a woman, and _only_ a woman, a woman who wanted him, a woman he wanted in return.

"Mmm, I knew you'd see things my way," she purred as he kissed her neck, and as she backed them towards the bed.

                                        * * *

It was his wildest dream, and it was his worst nightmare.

When Jyslin had jokingly put into his calendar last week that it would be a near-religious experience to make love to her, she _was not joking_. There was an intense sensuality about her that he was certain was a racial trait, a powerful awareness of senses, awareness of pleasure, and a strong empathic need to give as well as receive pleasure that made the night with her almost mind-boggling.

Just the memory of it made him shudder. It was dawn now, a little later than he usually slept, but then again, he hadn't had such an incredible night all those other times. He was on his stomach, and she was splayed half atop him, her arm draped over his back possessively, sleeping with her face pressed up against his shoulder. It was-there were no words for it. To call it sensual, erotic, intensely intimate, they would not do what passed between them last night proper justice. Her touch had been fire, but it was a fire that gave pleasure instead of pain, and she consumed him with it.

But it was more than the sex. Halfway into it, when she had him twisted around her finger, she touched his mind. She didn't _ask_ to do it, and at that moment, he was utterly incapable of doing anything to stop her. She seemed so caught up in their lovemaking that it was an automatic response, and it was then that he appreciated her power as a telepath. She blew through his started defenses like they were dust and joined their minds into a symbiotic union that allowed all their feelings, thoughts, sensations, everything to pass between them. They had become a single mind in two bodies, and the intensity of their lovemaking before that was like a candle flame held up to a bonfire. To feel _her_ pleasure in addition to his own, to know immediately what pleased her, what did not, and to feel the overpowering desire she had, an almost uncontrollable attraction to him that had caused her to go to such extremes to get closer to him, they multiplied the intimacy by an order of magnitude. She made love to him with her body and her mind, and it was an experience that had been seared forever into his memory as the single-most intense night of pleasure he had ever had. She had dropped all her defenses, joining their minds in an open connection that allowed him to look into her mind, _anywhere_ in her mind, and see whatever he wanted. He could have learned her most embarrassing secrets, her darkest fantasies, her most treasured dreams, or her most deep-seated desires had he wished to do so, but at that moment he was too busy making love to her to even think to look.

That, more than anything, was what impressed him, now that he looked back on it. She had been fearless about it, more than willing to expose the totality of her being to him, to give to him freely everything that she was. He felt unbelievably honored that she would trust him like that, give him _everything_ in exchange for joining their minds.

But _God_, what a night! He'd never be able to make love to a human woman ever again. She'd spoiled him, utterly spoiled him, because he knew that no human could ever match what he felt last night unless she was telepathic.

He yawned and tried to slide out from under her, but she suddenly grabbed hold of him and hooked the leg over the back of his own around the nearest one, wrapping him up and preventing him from going anywhere. "Mmmm, no you don't," she said in a half-awake, dreamy kind of satisfied lassitude. "I get to keep you until school."

"It's morning," he told her.

"Already? Damn," she grunted, letting go of him and rolling over on her back. "How's your nose?"

He'd suffered another nosebleed during their lovemaking, causing a rather funny interruption as she tried to stem the flow of blood, but she was so worked up that she couldn't concentrate on what she was doing.

"It's alright," he answered. "You must have hit it just right."

"I didn't hit it," she protested.

"Sometimes it just takes a touch," he told her. "A touch the wrong way to get a nose to bleeding again."

"Now that might have happened," she acceded, then she gave a throaty, sensual chuckle. "I can't wait for our next date," she told him, rolling back over and squirming up onto his back, holding him down. He looked up at her from the corner of his eye, seeing her bright, intimate smile. "Are you sure you have to go to school?"

"You can explain why I'm absent to the dean," he told her.

"I don't think snuggling is a valid reason to miss class," she laughed. "Well, my sweet one, I think I won our little bet," she purred in a sultry tone, leaning down and kissing his ear and cheek. "I don't think you minded losing," she breathed in his ear.

"I'm glad we made love," he told her honestly. "But I'm not glad for the situation. You're a Faey, and I'm a human. I just slept with the enemy, and now, if I'm not careful, I'm going to go back on all the promises I made to myself and compromise my principles."

"Hate what I stand for all you want, as long as you don't hate _me_," she told him seriously. "I'm more than capable of separating you from politics, Jason. At least try to do the same for me."

"That's not easy," he grunted.

"You think I'm a zealous patriot?" she asked archly. "You forget, I'm in armor because I couldn't _get_ the job I wanted. I was pushed out by rich nobles who put their children where _they_ wanted to go. I'm five times more qualified to be a starship engineer than most of them!" she flared. "I'm a Marine because I'm _not_ a noble!"

He rolled over on his back, dislodging her, and she immediately climbed back on top of him, putting her elbows down on either side of his shoulders, her hands playing with his hair. "I don't _care_ about the Imperium, Jason. I serve because I have to serve, the same as you. If I cared about the Imperium, I would have handed you over to Marci last night. If I cared about the Imperium, your little secret wouldn't be a secret."

"What secret?" he asked in confusion.

She gave him a sly smile. "I didn't seduce you _only_ to share a near-religious experience with you," she told him. "I needed to touch your mind and have you let me do it willingly. I wanted to see if I was _right_."

"Right about what?" he asked suspiciously.

"Right about this," she said, tapping him on the forehead. "If Marci found out about you, the Imperium might have a conniption. There's no telling what they'd do to the humans."

"What?" he demanded.

"Think about it, Jason," she said with a slow, knowing smile. "Why can you feel it when we touch your mind? Why is that you can hide yourself from us? How could you eject Marci out of your mind? It has nothing to do with your mental discipline or your training."

He gave her an impatient look.

"Jason, you have _talent_," she revealed. "And it's _not_ weak. When I joined with your mind, I found it within you, bursting at the seams to be realized."

"What?" he asked in shock.

"You're a telepath," she told him evenly. "And a damn bloody _strong_ one. You're as strong as I am, and I'm considered in the top ten percent among Faey."

He gaped at her in disbelief.

"I did help it along," she admitted shamelessly. "It was there, but you didn't know how to use it, and it hadn't fully formed itself. I showed it how to fully express, gave you a little nudge. But it's there."

He was thunderstruck. All he could do was gape at her in awed disbelief.

"The headaches, the nosebleeds, they were symptoms of the expression of your talent," she told him with a smile. "They weren't from stress, or sinus problems. Think about it. Didn't they flare up when you were around _Faey_?"

He was silent, thinking back... and he realized she was _right_. The last few days, there were Faey around him every time the headaches got bad. And the nosebleed, that started after Vell did whatever it was he did that allowed him to slip past his defenses and pass along a telepathic message.

"B-But it was too fast-"

"That's normal," she said. "Telepathy doesn't slowly develop like you're thinking it does. It does develop, but while it does, you can't feel it, and it doesn't show up. It just bursts out when you reach a certain level, which is usually around puberty for a Faey. For me, it was when I was _much_ younger. I've had talent for almost a long as I can remember. If you'd been _born_ among Faey, you'd have expressed at about the same time as me."

"But, but humans never showed any kind of ability before," he argued.

"I know," she said with pursed lips. "You told me that Faey always probe you. Maybe all that telepathic contact jarred it in you. If I'm right, you'd never had expressed any talent if it weren't for the fact that we're here. It was latent within you, unable for you to touch it, but when we came along and started stimulating that part of your brain with our own power, it started to develop."

He was still awestruck, but he had recovered his wits enough to understand what she was saying. But was she right? Did he really have _telepathic ability_?

"Of course you do," she said with a slow smile.

He glared at her. "How-"

"I know your mind now, Jason," she told him. "And we do happen to be touching at the moment. Your defenses don't work on me like this, not anymore. I can hear your thoughts whenever we touch. And with some training, you'll be able to hear mine." She touched his face gently. "But if it bothers you, I won't do it, I promise. I can tune you out."

"What, what are you going to do?" he asked in worry.

"Train you," she smiled. "I'm not going to turn you in, Jason, don't be silly. I don't care about the Imperium. I do what I'm told because I have to. If I can get away with not telling them a word, then I will. And they can't catch me," she winked. "I'm one of the strongest telepaths on Earth," she said bluntly, but not in a boasting manner. She was simply stating fact. "They can't pull it out of me by casual scans, because none of the mindbenders on the planet, the Empress' secret police, are strong enough to breach my defense