Allegiance of Honor (Psy-Changeling #15) - Nalini Singh Page 0,96
cold. Here.”
Only when Ivy put the afghan over his knees did he see that his hand was trembling on the cane despite the sunshine that poured down on him, his wrinkled skin bearing the marks of age. “Thank you, Daughter.” He touched his hand to Ivy’s soft tumble of curls as she bent over to arrange the afghan, this woman who had brought his son alive.
Vasic might not be that in absolute terms, their relationship two generations removed, but he was Zie Zen’s son of the heart. And he’d done what Zie Zen couldn’t—Vasic had saved his empathic mate, kept her from being crushed under the endless need of their people. A people who had finally remembered that the Es were treasures to be cherished.
It eased Zie Zen’s century-old pain to feel her touch, to know that Sunny’s dream was on the road to coming true.
Ivy smiled, the translucent copper of her eyes luminous and her affection and love for Zie Zen an open caress against his senses. Empaths—they had no sense of self-preservation. Never had. Probably never would.
“Would you like a hot drink?” she asked as the sun kissed the gold and cream of her skin.
Sunny’s hair had been yellow cornsilk, her eyes blue, but she’d been this way, too, always watching out for others. It was a need in an empath, this nurturing drive. “No,” he said. “The throw is enough.”
“Ivy!” Tavish rushed pell-mell toward them, the knees of his beige corduroy pants stained with grass and dirt. “Ivy! Ivy!” The seven-year-old all but ran into Ivy’s legs, throwing his arms around them in wild affection.
Laughing in a way that told the child he was loved, his affection welcome, she ruffled his hair. “Careful, speedy.”
Tavish tipped back his head, looked up. “Did you finish Grandfather’s birthday dinner?”
“I did.” Ivy met Zie Zen’s eyes. “I hope you’ll like what I’ve chosen.”
“You could do nothing that would displease me, Daughter.”
Ivy’s gaze shone wet before she was distracted by two words from the Arrow child who now called the orchard home, and who looked to Ivy and Vasic as family. As parents who wouldn’t reject him the way his birth parents had done when he proved to have a dangerous telekinetic gift. “Wanna play?” Wariness was a sudden intruder lurking in eyes of hazel mixed with brown.
Then Ivy leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Why not?”
Wariness wiped away with a smile that was a burst of starlight, Tavish went to run back to the ball the small white dog, Rabbit, was guarding. He paused midstep, came to Zie Zen, his pace far more sedate. “Grandfather,” he said respectfully. “Would you like to play, too?”
Zie Zen raised his hand to the boy’s cheek, touched the innocent warmth of it, and thought of the children he and his Sunny might’ve created had they lived in another time. “I will enjoy listening to you play, Grandson.”
Tavish made an aborted movement forward, seemed to decide to do it, and threw his arms around Zie Zen. Zie Zen closed his own around the boy, this small, bright spark of life who had learned to laugh under Zie Zen’s eyes.
“I’ll be over there, Grandfather.” Tavish pointed toward the start of the orchard after the embrace came to a natural end. “You can call me if you need me. Okay?”
“You are a good grandson.”
Flushing with pride, Tavish took his leave and ran off.
Ivy followed at a slower pace after picking up Zie Zen’s fallen cane and placing it against the side of his chair. She was soon caught up in the game, however, one that seemed to involve kicking the ball between two trees, with Rabbit in hot pursuit of the black-and-white object anytime it went past an invisible boundary.
When Vasic ’ported in right beside Ivy, she turned to kiss him in a motion so fluid, it was as if the two were one being. Zie Zen didn’t need to be an empath to sense her piercing love for Vasic, or Vasic’s passionate devotion to her. Zie Zen’s son of the heart loved his empath as Zie Zen had loved his Sunny.
Even as the couple drew apart, Ivy’s palm yet on Vasic’s chest, Tavish came to tug at Vasic’s hand and ask him to join in the game. Vasic touched that hand to the boy’s shoulder before turning to meet Zie Zen’s gaze. Grandfather, you are well? His telepathic voice was as pure as a remote lake of unbroken ice, but there was no cold