Harbinger (4 page)

“No one controls me,” she snapped. Javin had tried. Hell, he’d nearly succeeded, but then she’d sneaked a look behind his mask.

Slowly, Danvier touched his middle finger to her temple, a clear reminder of her attack. “Does your mate still live?”

The question sent unexpected heat curling through her body. “Why do you care?”

His finger slid slowly downward, caressing her from temple to chin. “A female as beautiful as you should never be left unprotected. If your mate still lives, he’s useless.”

She hated to admit it, but the harbinger was right. Javin might have been an amoral monster, but he’d kept her safe. Even after his passing, his reputation had opened doors she would never have been able to access alone. Needing a male’s protection was an outdated concept according to the social mores of Earth, but these men were Rodyte, not human. At times it was easy to forget, but so was she.

Danvier’s long fingers curved around her chin and his thumb traced her bottom lip. “How long have you been alone, vulnerable—defenseless?”

“I’m not defenseless.” She turned her face to the side, dislodging his hand. “I knocked you on your ass, didn’t I?”

“Why are you so afraid?” His legs framed hers, trapping her chair in its sideways position. He hadn’t really touched her, but the promise was there in his eyes. If she pushed him, he’d retaliate. He’d restrain her, control her, until all his mission objectives were complete. He might look like an angel, but he clearly thought like a soldier.

“I’m not afraid. I’m proactive.”

His only response was a small shift in his expression. She refused to figure out what it meant.

He had to be taking her to Earth. It was the only destination that made sense, but what did the rebels hope to accomplish by kidnapping her? Without being there to guard the secret, it was only a matter of time before the IG realized what she’d done. And without Javin’s reputation to protect her, she really was helpless. At least as long as the current power structure remained in place.

“I’m pretty sure I know where we’re going,” she told him. “Can you tell me why you’re taking me to Earth?”

One corner of his mouth quirked in a sardonic smile. “I already told you. I’m following orders.”

Provoking him was counterproductive, but she couldn’t seem to tame her wayward tongue. “Are you really such a mindless puppet? Take a guess. What does General Nox want with me?”

Danvier glanced at the control matrix then took a deep breath.
Phantom
shuttles were highly automated. Once the course was set, they basically flew themselves. His high-backed seat still faced Haven’s and he clutched the armrests to keep from reaching for her. If he touched her again, he wouldn’t be able to stop with a quick caress. The urge to pounce, to subdue her was nearly overwhelming and she was her own worst enemy. Every word she uttered provoked him, challenging his control. She’d attacked him, for creation’s sake. He’d never met a female who was quite so spirited.

Her features were deceptively delicate, making her vibrant personality even more surprising. She wore a conservative blouse with a tiny floral print and calf-length skirt of darkest blue. The rings in her eyes couldn’t decide if they were purple or blue. He wasn’t sure if emotion or light caused the transformation, but he’d witnessed the change several times in their brief acquaintance. Wavy brown hair just grazed her shoulders, allowing the soft-looking mass to swish against her cheeks when she moved her head. Cobalt-blue streaks threaded through the brown. She might have been raised on Earth, but Haven Tandori appeared to be full-blooded Rodyte.

She was part of Tandori Tribe, a group of outcasts who had abandoned their homeworld rather than support a war they found objectionable. Most Rodytes considered the choice cowardly. Danvier understood the prevailing attitude, yet he also saw nobility in Tandori Tribe’s conviction. Few were willing to go to such lengths to demonstrate their principles.

Haven’s eyebrows arched and her phitons deepened from violet to midnight blue. “Have you followed orders so long you can’t think for yourself anymore?” Though her tone was light, almost singsong, challenge infused every syllable.

Did she want him to react? Was that why she kept challenging him? “I think it’s unwise to provoke a Rodyte male when you’re six hours from your destination.” He accented the threat with his best scowl and still she laughed.

“You’re a harbinger.” She waved dismissively in his direction. “Servitude is in your genes. You were trained from birth to be obedient.”

He grasped the armrests of her chair and brought their faces close together. “I’m not like most harbingers.” He caught a lock of her hair and curled it around his finger. What he really wanted to do was pull her onto his lap and kiss her into submission.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Despite her claim, fear shadowed her expression and she pressed back into her seat.

He released her hair and wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck, leaning in even closer. Her scent sank deeper with each breath he took, spreading through his senses, creating an awareness he’d never experienced before. He felt intoxicated, yet hyper alert at the same time. Garin had said Haven was off limits. She was still grieving her mate. Pursuing her now would be selfish and unprofessional. But none of that seemed to matter. Danvier couldn’t stop touching her.

“Leave me alone.” She shoved against his chest.

He didn’t budge, couldn’t bear to deprive himself of her scent. “I haven’t done anything yet.” Denial was pointless. He wasn’t sure why he attempted to conceal how readily his instincts had engaged. He wanted her badly. Pretending otherwise was hypocritical.

“I had a mate,” she reminded him sharply. “I know what you’re doing, what it means.”

Rodyte males could identify potential mates by scent. The more compatible a female was with his physiology, the more appealing he’d find her scent. And he found Haven extremely appealing. He slowly raised his head and looked into her eyes. “You ‘had’ a mate? Meaning, you don’t have a mate any longer?” Javin’s death had been revealed to Danvier in a vision. Before this voyage was over, he intended to hear Haven confirm what he’d seen. She was a widow, no longer protected by a mate.

She ignored the questions and digressed to an earlier statement. “Why aren’t you like most harbingers?”

He wanted to bury his face in her hair and explore the impulses triggered by her scent, but now was not the time or place for such an exploration. Kissing her, tasting her, would countermine a direct order from his best friend and anchor. So reluctantly he moved his hands back to the armrests of her chair and put a little more space between them. “I escaped Harbinger Academy when I was a child and was raised by my battle born uncles. I never realized how much that upbringing shaped my perspective until I spent time with other harbingers.”

“You ‘escaped Harbinger Academy’. Were you a captive? Was someone holding you there against your will? People wait years just to be considered for induction. Why would anyone run away from such a place?”

His nostrils flared and his fingers clutched the armrests of her chair. She wasn’t just being mouthy now, she was being insulting. He’d never met a female more in need of taming. Garin’s order alone held him back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Besides, her provocation was a transparent attempt to gain information and he wasn’t willing to reward her arrogance.

“So set me straight. Apparently, we’ve got plenty of time.” Gradually the mockery in her expression was replaced by curiosity. Her thought process was like an agile dance. Anger hadn’t made him talk, so now she’d try cajoling. “Aren’t you Pyre Sterling’s son? Why would you need to escape an institution run by your mother?”

“Pyre Sterling might have facilitated my birth, but she is
not
my mother.” Resentment made the statement harsh and cutting.

“And she likely cost me what was left of my life on Rodymia,” Haven reminded him. “There are no Pyre fans here.”

Thoughts of Pyre always made him edgy and he was already wound tightly enough. Not trusting himself to speak, he released her chair and turned back to the main viewscreen. Hopefully, she’d change the subject, or better yet, stop talking altogether. Every word out of her mouth challenged his aggressive nature, the part of his soul it had taken years of targeted discipline to subdue.

No such luck.

“If you were just a child when you left the academy, who helped you escape?”

He wanted to tangle his fingers in her hair and pull her head back so he could kiss her sassy mouth. It was ridiculous. He never reacted this strongly to anyone. Without turning his head, he muttered, “If I tell you my secrets, will you tell me yours?”

“You brought it up. I didn’t ask.” She suddenly stood and her seat swiveled back to its forward-facing position. “I’m just trying to understand how it happened.”

There was much he needed to explain and Haven would accept the news better if they’d established some level of trust. They had six hours to kill and he’d rather not spend the entire time bickering. So he checked the readouts then stood as well, positioning himself in the space between the two forward-facing seats. If he moved within arm’s reach, he’d touch her, so he wisely kept his distance. “Pyre summoned my father to her bed as she does with every organic male harbinger. Refusing her wasn’t an option.” Miraculously, Haven listened attentively without comment or question. “When she conceived the first time, Father thought he’d fulfilled his obligation to the guild and expected to be left alone. All he wanted was to focus on his training so he could become the best harbinger possible.”

“That’s not what happened?” She fiddled with her skirt with one hand, her dark eyes wide and watchful.

“I was male, so Pyre waited the appropriate months and then summoned him again.”

“It’s a harsh and archaic tradition, but can’t organic harbingers only reproduce with other organic harbingers?”

Was she defending Pyre? The possibility stunned him into silence. He studied Haven’s face, assessing her gaze. All he saw was curiosity and concern, so he exhaled then answered her question. “That’s what we’re taught, but my sister just formed a mating bond with a battle born soldier. According to academy lessons, Chandar and Raylon shouldn’t have gotten that far.”

“Do you and Chandar have the same father?”

“Yes. Father was confident that he could protect me from the ambitions of Pyre and the council, but Chandar’s birth changed everything. An organic female hadn’t been born for almost fifty years.”

Haven’s expressive eyes narrowed and her head tilted to one side. “What about Pyre? Isn’t she organic?”

“I honestly don’t know. Some say she’s organic, but her abilities still required augmentation. Others insist that all of Pyre’s gifts are the result of technology, which means she isn’t organic. In my opinion, it doesn’t matter how she got her abilities. She was powerful enough to wrest control from the last Pyre Sterling and no one has even attempted to challenge her since.”

“That’s right. Each Harbinger Guild Mistress also becomes Pyre Sterling. It’s as much a title as a name.” He nodded, acknowledging her statement, but said nothing more. “Back to your escape.”

Danvier sighed. He was rambling, telling Haven more than she needed to know. He hadn’t even determined where her loyalties lay, so why was he sharing family secrets? Well, the events he’d shared so far weren’t really secret. Though versions differed greatly depending on who was telling the story. “Father didn’t want Chandar to be bartered away like a prized possession, so he tried to leave the academy with both of us.”

“Pyre stopped him?”

Their gazes locked as Danvier explained, “Pyre snatched Chandar out of his arms then stabbed him in the chest with an EMP dagger. The wound alone wouldn’t have killed him, but the pulse disabled his medi-bots. He bled to death before my uncles could get him to a medical center.”

Silence descended and Haven began to fidget. He didn’t yet know her well enough to determine what she was thinking.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I knew Pyre couldn’t be trusted, but I didn’t realize she’s actually evil.”

If there had been any hint of sarcasm in her response, he would have ended the conversation. But her expression was soft and somewhat sad. “Evil is too absolute. According to many, Pyre was the victim, not my father.”

“How in creation do they figure that?” Now she sounded indignant enough to make him smile. She meandered along the center-facing seats, her fingertips trailing over the armrests.

“According to some, Pyre was a loving mother, desperately trying to protect her children from their psychotic father. Ask anyone on the Harbinger council and they’ll swear they would have done the same.”

“Even after what happened to Chandar?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. She might not be trying to anger him now, but her overly candid style accomplished the same. “Questions involving Chandar are off limits.”

“All right. Sorry.” She looked at him then away. “Can we go clear back to the beginning?” She crossed to the other side of the shuttle and began her trek toward him. “Why did General Nox order you to bring me to Earth?”

Unfolding his arms, he glanced at the control matrix before answering. “That’s a surprisingly complicated question.”

“Give it your best shot.” She encouraged him with a hesitant smile.

Now came the tricky part. He had to bring her up to speed without revealing anything she didn’t needed to know. He grasped the backs of the two forward-facing seats, needing something to do with his hands. “We were in the process of negotiating an alliance with Tandori Tribe when we learned of your peril.”

That brought her up short halfway down the row. “Why would Vinton negotiate with the battle born? Tandori Tribe gains nothing by aligning with other fugitives.”

Her first question was so surprising that he barely heard the second. Didn’t she know Vinton was dead? Tandori Tribe lacked the technology for instant interplanetary communication, but what about all the IG spies? It had been over a week since Vinton’s death. How could she not know?

He stared straight ahead, frantically deciding what to say. If he didn’t tell her, the omission would complicate all of the other things she needed to know. But he was terrible at this sort of thing. His powers were so volatile that each moment of every day was a struggle to maintain control. He felt emotions, often felt the emotions of others, but allowing himself to respond to the raw intensity was dangerous to him and those around him. So how could he explain to Haven that her brother was dead without sounding like an emotionless drone?

“What’s wrong?” She crept forward, dread clearly written in her eyes. “You’re suddenly all stone-faced and scowly again.”

Scowly? Was that even a word? He relaxed his eyebrows and smoothed his brow. “Do you know a female named Milanni? She runs a pleasure club on Outpost LA.” He looked at Haven as he asked the question.

Her reaction was subtle, but telling. She licked her lips and smoothed down her skirt, though there wasn’t a wrinkle in sight. “What about her?”

“Do you know why she would have gone to see your brother Vinton?”

“What is this about?” She exhaled slowly, clearly trying to calm herself. “Why are you always so cagey?”

“I’m not being cagey.” He pushed off the seatbacks and moved a little closer to his reluctant companion. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Milanni was one of Javin’s spies.” She shrugged as if to minimize the revelation. “She wouldn’t have been my choice, but Javin seemed to trust her.”

“Who sent her to Vinton?”

“I did.” She retreated a step for each step he advanced until her back was against the bulkhead.