Alpha Hunter (22 page)

“Meaning he’s a king?”

Tori shrugged. “He’s the man I love. That’s all I care. Riches and power are just icing on the cake.”

Angie laughed. “Well, I’ve always been fond of icing.”

“
Enough about me. Tell me about you. Are you really okay? Blayne wasn’t too much of a taskmaster, was he?”

Even the suggestion made Angie smile. “Blayne is amazing. As you expected, he doesn’t put up with my bullshit, but he’s really very patient.”

“What about the bug Nazerel left in your mind? Has that been destroyed?”

Angie shook her head.
“Drakkin confirmed that it doesn’t work, but he left the strand intact. He thinks I can follow it and locate Nazerel.”

Tori paled, clearly upset by the possibility. “Won’t
Nazerel sense you?”

“Most of the people I access were unaware of me.”

“I sensed you.”

“We’re sisters. We have an inherent connection.” Drakkin had sensed her too. It really was a crap shoot, but it was worth the gamble. The Shadow Assassins had to be stopped and Nazerel was a pivotal player.

“You’re obviously a farseer,” Tori mused, the color gradually returning to her cheeks. “Do you have any other abilities?”

“I’m a
temporal farseer. I can see across space and time.”

Tori nodded. “
Farseeing must have been one of Father’s gifts. I can’t manipulate time, but I can project my consciousness.”

“That’s probably why we connected so easily.”

“Likely. But farseeing isn’t my primary gift. I’m a sensitive. I can sense all sorts of things in others when I really concentrate.”

Angie scooted closer to the table. They’d had the same parents and yet their abilities were different. It shouldn’t surprise her. Their hair and eye color weren’t the same and their personality traits were certainly individual. “I can’t help wondering about him.”

“Daddy dear?”

“Yeah.
I always thought he was some sort of drifter, but Blayne thinks it was more immoral than that.”

Tori scrunched up her brow.
“In what way?”

“Apparently there was a program
about thirty years ago that brought Ontarian men and human women together so they could have lots of babies.”

“Blayne thinks Mom was part of this program? Lor hasn’t said anything about
it. Well, all he said was Blayne and Odintar were part of a mission awhile back that went horribly wrong. I guess it took some convincing for Blayne to even agree to return to Earth.”

Angie drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “We should compare notes more often. Blayne never said anything about his mission going ‘horribl
y wrong’.”

“What was the mission? For that matter
, why does Blayne think Mom was part of some baby-making program?”

“If she’d been part of the official
program, we probably would have grown up on Ontariese. Blayne and the others were sent here to round up renegades, men who decided it was more fun to seduce human females without telling them what was going on.”

“
They have a sample of my DNA now,” Tori said. “Can Blayne find out if our father was one of the renegades they captured or if he’s still on the loose?”

Angie nodded.
“I’ll ask him about it. You’ve got me really curious now about what happened on that mission.”

“
I don’t know the details, but it wasn’t good. You might want to leave sleeping dogs lie.”

“Like he did with m
e?”

Tori tensed and pain flashed through her gaze. “Do you regret confiding in him?”

“No.” She tried to soothe Tori with a smile. “I just intend to return the favor. He knows all my secrets. Why shouldn’t I know his?”

“Be careful.
The difference is your dog wasn’t sleeping. It was devouring you. I think yours is just morbid curiosity.”

She waved away the criticism and changed the subject.
“How is Jillian? She’s being guarded, isn’t she?”

“She’s in the hospital, but it has nothing to do with the Shadow Assassins.”

“Oh no. What happened?” The last thing they needed was another tragedy. Jillian was Tori’s best friend, but she’d always been kind to Angie.

“
There was an accident during rehearsal. One of her legs was badly damaged. She’s crushed and depressed, but it’s probably the safest place for her right now.”

Angie wasn’t sure why that would be unless they’d stationed guards at the hospital. “Why would an injury disqualify her from consideration?”
The question made her shake her head. “Not that disqualification is a bad thing.”

“Once she’s healed up and on her feet again, it won’t be a deterrent. But she should be safe for now. According to Odintar, Shadow Assassins are all about the hunt. They need to stalk, outwit and ultimately overpower. A helpless
target is no challenge. They have to feel like they’ve earned the right to claim their mate before it’s satisfying.”

Angie shivered.
Their entire mindset was so primitive, so savage. It was hard to believe they’d come from a technologically advanced planet. “I should go see her. I know she’s more your friend than mine, but she must be horribly depressed.”

“
I saw her day before yesterday. She wasn’t happy. I’m sure she’d love to see you again.”

Deciding she’d heard enough about
sadness and Shadow Assassins for one day, Angie asked, “What about the internet fiasco? Has that blown over yet?”

“Morgan had one of her men pretend to be an amateur filmmaker. He went on a bunch of
talk shows and did a ton of interviews explaining how the ‘special effects’ worked. The Provo police lost interest after that, figured your supposed involvement was just a coincidence after all.”

“Thank God. We don’t need a bunch of noisy reporters following us around.”

“Morgan is pretty sharp. I think you’ll like her.”

Angie nodded, but her mind had begun to wander. She looked around the room, curious about the s
ubtle differences in this cabin. “Do you share this room with Lor? It’s a little bigger than the soldier’s.”

“We’d been staying at my house, but Lor was right. Nazerel had it bugged. That man is nothing if not tenacious.”

“Blayne mentioned a Bunker. Do you know what or where that is?”

“It’s Morgan’s headquarters. I haven’t been there, but I’ve heard it’s not as depressing as it sounds. Blayne had been sharing a room with Odintar, so unless you’re interested in a ménage, it’s probably best to find
somewhere else to bed down.”

“Listen to you.” Angie laughed. “
All it took was a group of aliens to get the starch out of your panties.”

“You disapprove?” Tori
glared playfully.

“Absolutely not.
I can’t remember ever seeing you this…happy.”

She reached across the table and squeezed Angie’s hand. “You’re next, little sister. Ontarian men are addictive and
, unless I’m way off the mark, you’re about halfway hooked already.”

With its central turret and matching wings, St Rose Dominican Hospital looked more like a nice hotel than a hospital. But then Angie’s perception of hospitals was admittedly tainted by past experience.
Blayne flashed them to a grassy area at the back of the building and then they walked around to the front. Chances of being spotted as they suddenly materialized in the main parking were simply too risky.

She was quickly learning that the Ontarian
Mystics could teleport almost anywhere. If they slowed down their “flash”, they could read the road ahead and find a secluded place to land, or “manifest”. They might speak English with remarkable ease, but they had their own vocabulary for all things Mystical. Of course there was no English equivalent for Summoning the Storm or temporal farseeing.

Blayne slipped his hand into hers, entwining their fingers
as they neared the front entrance. “Are you sure you want to do this. We can send her a balloon bouquet and call.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand.
His concern was sweet, but she needed to face down another one of her demons. “Jillian has been good to Tori and me. I need to do this.”

They walked to the information
desk and found out Jillian’s room number. The outside of the building might have been unusually pleasant but there was no way to camouflage the sights, sounds and smells of a hospital. The hallways were clean and stylishly decorated. Still, Angie felt surrounded by suffering and grief.

The elevator door slid closed and Blayne pulled her into his arms. “Anxiety is radiating off you in waves. If you don’t relax
, I’ll have no choice but to kiss you.”

“That’s not much of a threat and I don’t generally find your kisses relaxing.”

As if to prove her wrong, he pressed a soft, tender kiss to her lips then straightened just as the door slid open. She took a deep breath and smiled. He was right. She felt better.

The television was on in Jillian’s room, but she was staring out the window.

Angie knocked on the open door. “Hey, Jill. Can we come in?”

Jillian turned her head and pity flooded Angie’s heart. Jillian’s blonde hair hung to her shoulders in lank strands and deep purple smudges shadowed her
blue eyes. “I’m not very good company right now.” Her right leg was heavily bandaged and immobilized in some sort of elaborate splint. Few injuries would have been more devastating for a professional dancer.

“That’s all right.” Angie pushed the door wider and strolled into the room. “We’ll entertain you.”

“Good luck with that,” she muttered then her gaze shifted to Blayne and narrowed. “Is there a male model convention in town or something? Tori hooks up with a blonde Adonis and now you show up with…him.”

“Blayne
cet Malaque,” he offered with a charming smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“
Likewise.” Her attempt at a smile was tight and unbelievable, then she shifted her gaze back to Angie. “Tori told me you left town with Jordan. How did you end up with Blayne?”

“He swooped in like a knight in shining armor and rescued me from that worthless deadbeat of course.”

The smile finally reached Jillian’s eyes. “You always did attract the hunks. Let’s see if you can hold on to this one for a change.”

Angie glanced at Blayne
, but his expression was unreadable.
She’s not usually this bitchy.

She has
a reason. I’d be grumpy too.

“So,” Angie sat in the chair next to Angie’s bed and Blayne
casually strolled to the far side of the room. With his back to the wall and a clear view of the door, it was a much more defensible position. Was he expecting an attack or just wanting to be prepared for anything. “How long will you be out of commission?”

“The surgery was successful.” She made quotation marks with her fingers as she said the last word. “The doctors assured me that
with intensive therapy I’ll be able to walk again and likely my limp will be barely noticeable. However, there is no chance in hell I’ll ever dance professionally again.”

Tori hadn’t spelled it out, but what she had said prepared Angie for the details. Dancing was
Jillian’s life. Without it she would feel useless. “You’re strong and stubborn. Let your body tell you what you can and cannot do.”

Jillian
shook her head and glanced away. “You didn’t see what happened. My leg wasn’t just damaged it was crushed. It really is a miracle I didn’t lose it.” Angie reached over and touched her hand, but Jillian moved it out of reach. “I’ll get over it. What choice do I have? But it pisses me off. I was so damn close to achieving my goals and then this…”

Jillian was fighting back tears and Angie didn’t know how to help her. She understood pain more than most, yet this was a different sort of pain.

“I know you mean well, but I’d rather be alone.” She dismissed them without turning her head.

“We’ll leave for now, but you’re not getting rid of us
that easily. You will get through this because Tori and I are going to make sure you do.”

She turned her head and looked at Angie, anguish making her eyes shine. “There
’s nothing anyone can do. My dancing days are over.”

“Then you’ll redefine yourself or become a choreographer. This isn’t the end; it’s the beginning.”

Jillian nodded, but the pain in her gaze made it obvious that she didn’t yet believe.

Blayne didn’t say anything until they were in the elevator. “Odintar could probably help her, but we’d need to clear it with Lor.”

“Odintar is a healer?”

“Odintar has many skills and his nanites amplif
y them all.”

They exited the elevator and started across the lobby as Angie digested that tidbit. “But how would he heal her without exposing her to…everything else?”