Mystic Militia (20 page)

Hard and deep, he filled her over and over. His frenzy fueled her need and her uninhibited response stoked his fire. He grabbed her hips and lifted her into each downward stroke, doubling the impact as they met in the middle.

She cried out, consumed by the intensity. He moved through her body, mind and spirit, caressing her from the inside out. She watched his passion-contorted expression, willing him to open his eyes. His lids slowly lifted and she pushed the words
I love you
into his mind.

He gasped and shuddered, frantically working his length in and out of her welcoming heat.
I love you too. Oh, Tori…

He threw back his head, shouting in pleasure and triumph. His chest heaved and his seed burst from his tip in rhythmic jets. She squeezed him tightly with her arms, legs and inner muscles. Her arousal crested in a gentle swell, leaving her floating in a sea of contentment.

When he’d recovered enough to move, he pulled her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips, unwilling to lose their physical connection. “That’s the second time you’ve said it while I was inside you. Do you mean it? Do you really love me?”

“You see me as I
am,
no pretense or artifice.” She kissed his mouth then pulled back and looked into his eyes. “How can you doubt it?”

“I know you’ve been disappointed and betrayed by the men with whom you trusted your heart. I will break that cycle. I will be faithful to you with my body, mind and heart.”

Their empathic link was still active and she felt the commitment behind his words. “And I will never hold your past against you. I am yours now and forever.”

He kissed her forehead and slowly separated their bodies. “The next step is a mating bond, but that cannot be undone. I want it with all of my heart. I also want you to be absolutely certain of your decision. I won’t even consider the ritual until this crisis is past.”

“I understand and agree, but in my heart we’re already bonded.”

A dizzying surge of joy was his only reply.

They crawled beneath the sheets and she snuggled against his side. Safe and content in her mate’s arms, Tori drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

Sevrin clenched her hands until her fingernails drew blood, welcoming the pain. The burning was the only thing keeping her from shrieking in frustration. Marat covered the twisted human carnage with a sheet. Had that thing really been an attractive female eleven hours ago? The cowardly hunter had taken off as soon as his prized mate began to mutate.
Selfish bastard.
His reaction hadn’t surprised her, but she was still angered by his casual indifference to the life he’d stolen. The life
they
had
stolen. She was as much to blame as the Shadow Assassins.

“What’s your next move?” Even Marat’s long-suffering calm couldn’t soothe her today.

“Damn good question.” She unfolded her hands and took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, I don’t yet have an answer.”

“What shall I do with the body?”

“Take her to Jonathan.” It was a sad state of affairs when a mortician became one’s best and brightest hope. “Call first to make sure he’s alone.” Jonathan was a retired medical examiner who now owned an exclusive funeral home. He charged exorbitant fees to deal with the dead for those who required discretion. He was part private investigator, part mob-style “cleaner”. He was also a fugitive Rodyte who had immigrated to Earth without her uncle’s permission. If Jonathan displeased her in any way, he’d find himself back on Rodymia, answering for his many crimes.

“I’ll take care of it.” Marat patted her on the back like a child and Severn had the overwhelming urge to press her face against his chest. Stubbornness alone kept the impulse from dictating her actions. She’d known Marat her entire life, had spent more time with him than with her father. He was her protector, sometimes confidante and the nearest thing she’d ever had to a friend.

“I don’t know why this is happening. All of the simulations ran flawlessly.”

“Simulations cannot predict every variable.” He motioned toward the doorway. “Jonathan will provide you with the information you need to make the necessary changes.”

She walked from the bedroom, Marat on her heels. “The programing language controlling the nanites is so complex. I can’t help wondering if I missed something.” He closed the door and followed her down the hall. There were four bedrooms on the upper level of the house/headquarters. The blue bedroom was reserved for conversion attempts. The green bedroom was equipped for medical treatments. Examinations and minor procedures could be conducted onsite. Anything more complex required the technology on her ship. A surgeon and two medical technicians had traveled with her from Rodymia. They had their own dwellings, each within ten minutes of her house. “Maybe I should move Doctor
Porffer
into the spare bedroom.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference. There was nothing anyone could have done to stop the transformation.”

She knew Marat was right, but she felt so damn helpless. “I won’t allow another attempt unless she’s supervising. If I don’t control every aspect of this project, the hunters will run all over me.”

“Very true.”

They descended the main staircase, which swept from floor to floor in a dramatic curve. This house was extravagant by human standards, but simple compared to any of the royal residences back on Rodymia.

“I hate the waiting.” She paused as they reached the elegant foyer. “Once I have Jonathan’s report, I’ll have to transmit the findings home and then wait for the teams there to offer suggestions.”

“It’s still the safest arrangement. Every person you bring to Earth is a potential liability. The human race is too suspicious of outsiders. Besides, a mobile lab couldn’t possibly process all of the samples you’ll need analyzed. This is not a simple undertaking.”

“I am aware.” She sighed. “And you don’t need to be so damn logical.”

He chuckled. “I’ll work on my illogicalness.”

She started for her office then the doorbell rang. Waving Marat on, she crossed to the door and peered through the small beveled window mounted at eyelevel. Nazerel stood on the porch, impatiently waiting to be admitted. She pulled the door open and motioned him into the house.

“Allenton said you wanted to see me.” He glanced around as if he’d never seen the place before. It was a not so clever ploy to avoid her gaze.

She shut the door and headed for her office, expecting him to follow. He did, soundlessly and without argument. He was in trouble and he knew it. It was also apparent that he didn’t really care.

He entered her office and she closed the door. Nazerel was proud. Chastising him in front of anyone, even domestic staff, would encourage his defiance. “I know you’re aware of my rules, so the question is, why have you chosen to disregard them?”

“If I’d wanted a master, I would have stayed in the City of Tears.” The blue rings in his gray eyes flashed, warning her that his mood wasn’t any better than hers.

“I don’t want to be your master. I want—”

“Isn’t Allenton commanding enough for you?” He stalked her, approaching at a slow, menacing pace.

She held her ground, refusing to be intimidated by his bravado. He might be bigger and stronger, but he was still at her mercy. “Three females have been taken without my approval. Two weren’t even part of the screening process.”

He switched gears in an instant, as if curiosity overcame his need to control. Rather than backing her into the wall, which had obviously been his intent, he moved to one of the chairs in front of her desk and sat. “Their minds wouldn’t accept the bond. What exactly are you screening for?”

“Genetic stability, potential health problems and Ontarian blood.”
She moved behind her desk and sat, comforted by the barrier. It was imperative that Nazerel not perceive her as weak. “What we’re trying to do is unprecedented. I’ve studied the concept for over a decade and I still don’t grasp many of the details.”

“Still trying to make Daddy proud of you?” He snickered. “Your father is dead. Isn’t that a little pointless.”

So Allenton hadn’t kept her secret after all. That was disappointing. Maybe she could use her identity to her advantage. Nazerel was clearly not intimidated by her as a woman. Maybe he’d be a little more respectful of a princess. “My father dedicated his life to reestablishing equality. Those unable to manipulate magic are treated like second-class citizens. He was determined to change that fact.”

“But he failed,” he pointed out with an exasperating smirk.

“No. He was murdered before his destiny could be fulfilled. He did not fail.”

“So you picked up the pieces of his dream, hoping to see them to fruition?”

He sounded less sarcastic, so she answered honestly. “I have always shared his dream. We worked together toward a common goal until he was taken from me.”

“Why’d you hide who you are,
Princess
?”

“I didn’t want it to be a distraction.”

“Your body is more of a distraction than your title.”

She suppressed her smile, unwilling to let him see how much his admission pleased her. Perhaps he wasn’t as indifferent to her as he pretended. “No more unauthorized hunts.”

He inclined his head.

“I want your word on it.”

“It would be rather pointless. Apparently we can’t form a mating bond with a human female unless she has Ontarian blood.”

He was hiding behind his favorite bored expression, which made her immediately suspicious. “Are the pleasure givers not enough for your men? We cannot risk them taking captives indiscriminately.”

His gaze suddenly bore into hers, fierce and defiant. “We are hunters. Don’t you understand what that means?”

“The chase is just as important as the kill?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m trying to accommodate your needs, but you must be willing to compromise. I’m not just being a bitch. If Team South attracts the attention of the human military or law enforcement, you’ll all end up in cages and there will be nothing I can do about it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and a bit of his rebellion faded. “I’ll reassert the importance of the procedures.”

“You need to do more than that. You must lead by example. Your obsession with Angie sent ripples of conflict all the way back to Ontariese.”

“Angie is on the list. I will not give her up.”

“Have you captured her?” Allenton insisted that Nazerel hadn’t, but she was no longer sure she could trust the accuracy of Allenton’s reports.

His chin came up and his gaze narrowed. “The time is not yet right.”

“But you know where she is?” He just smiled. “Has anyone seen Lor? Is he with this new team from Ontariese?”

“They’re calling themselves the Mystic Militia, which annoys Allenton to no end. He came up with that term. We’re not sure if Lor is with them or not. We’re pretty sure it’s a six-man team, but we’ve only managed to identify three of the six. They have a ship this time.”

“Damn.” Even if the news wasn’t good, at least Nazerel was sharing. “Are you sure they can’t use scanners to find you?”

“Only a Shadow Assassin can sense a Shadow Assassin.”

“Then you better hope they didn’t bring one along.” She pushed back her chair and stood. This hadn’t been the shouting match she’d pictured when she sent for Nazerel. Still, she felt as if it had been productive. “I need you to work with me, not against me. We have enough obstacles to overcome without fighting each other.”

He stood as well. “As long as you treat me like a partner, not a pet, we’ll get along just fine.”

“So what exactly are you doing?” Lor asked the following evening. Morgan and Odintar were huddled together over the navigation console, but the
Sentinel
was still on the ground.

“Combining our toys.”
Morgan didn’t look up, was obviously engrossed in her computations.

Odintar swiveled his chair around so he could look at Lor and Tori. “Morgan’s people have been monitoring unusual energy spikes. Each spike is lightning fast, but stronger than human technology can produce. She’s ruled out our equipment, so we’re hoping the hunters are responsible for whatever is causing these spikes. If not, we might have competition we don’t know about.”

“Your scanners are much more accurate than mine,” Morgan added, though she still didn’t turn around. “If we can lock on to the location of one of the spikes, we’ll finally have a place to start searching.”

“Sid, Kris and Blayne are out placing remote scanners in strategic locations and we’re networking the signals to form a grid.” Odintar motioned toward the console over which Morgan worked. “As soon as the grid is complete, we should be able to lock on to the signal regardless of the spike’s duration.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Just be ready to move as soon as we see the next spike,” Morgan told him.

“This might be a good time for me to brief your people. You said you have an eight-man team.”

“Technically an eight-
person
team; two of my ‘men’ are female.” Morgan angled her chair so she could see him. “Information is released on a need-to-know basis. My people are trained to expect unusual developments, but they draw their own conclusions. Elias, the team leader, is the only one with clearance high enough for specific information.”

“Why are the others kept in the dark?” If she didn’t trust her team members, why did she continue to work with them?

“Plausible deniability.
If they’re captured and interrogated, they can’t reveal what they don’t know.”

His only response was a stiff nod. He wouldn’t have chosen such a ruthless approach, but he understood the logic.

“Elias can be here in fifteen minutes or I can arrange for him to meet you somewhere else if you’d rather he not see the ship.”

“Here is fine.” Lor was a good judge of character, which was why he’d disliked Allenton from the start. If he had misgivings after meeting Elias, Lor would send the human away without ever allowing him to set foot on the ship. “I’d rather not leave until we know the grid is working.”

Tori moved up beside him and asked, “Were your people able to identify Angie’s location?”

Morgan looked at Tori, compassion clear in her blue gaze. “Not yet. I’m sorry. They’re still working on it.”

Tori nodded. “I know you’re doing everything you can.”

“We all are.” Odintar turned his chair back around. “One more scanner to place and then the grid will be operational.”

“Then all we need is a lucky break,” Morgan said.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” Tori replied.

Technology was not his area of expertise, so Lor took Tori to the galley. She slipped into the booth, absently fiddling with Angie’s cell phone. “Have you tried to contact her today?” He sat across from her.

“Straight to voice mail, just like yesterday and the day before.
If that worthless bouncer is ignoring me, I’m going to wring his neck.” She set the phone down with a sigh. “You think Nazerel has her, don’t you. Everyone has been trying to keep me from freaking out, but you all think he already has her. And by the way, I knew Morgan was lying last night. I was just too upset to call her on it.”

“She didn’t intentionally deceive you. She was just—”

“Protecting me.
Yeah, I get it. But it needs to stop. I’m not that fragile. I’ve been dealing with Angie’s dramas ever since our mother died.”

“This is no ordinary drama. You must admit.”

“I’ll admit I’m thrilled to have help, if you admit it’s she’s with Nazerel.”

She was obviously feeling stronger today, so he was brutally honest. “If Angie’s boyfriend was able to return the call, I think he would have by now. I don’t know if Nazerel has Angie, but something has gone wrong.”

That seemed to satisfy her need for candor, so he tried to convince her to eat something. She wrinkled her nose and insisted she wasn’t hungry. They’d had a hearty breakfast before leaving Tori’s house, so he didn’t push the issue.

One by one the other team members returned to the ship, providing some much needed distraction. Everyone was respectful of Tori, but they also enjoyed giving her a hard time. Blayne especially went out of his way to rile her.

“So let me make sure I have this correct.” Blayne’s features were expressionless, but Lor recognized mischief in his silver-blue eyes. “Humans pretend to be other people and require fake scenery in which to act out these dramas.”

“They aren’t all dramas,” Tori told him. “Some plays are funny and some of the performances showcase acrobatic skills rather than portraying a story.” She was trying so hard to help Blayne understand the live entertainment industry and all the while Blayne was simply encouraging her to talk.

“And your role is to create these fake locations.” Disbelief crept into his tone.

“It’s not as easy as it sounds. Space is often limited and the stage must be able to transform from one location to the next very quickly.”

“You receive compensation for playing with paint and canvas ‘flats’?” The other men started laughing and Tori glared at Blayne.

“You’re making fun of me. Aren’t you?” She slumped back in the booth with an adorable pout.

“I’ve been to the theater on many planets, including Earth,” he admitted with a sly smile. “Ontarians prefer interactive entertainment, but I understand what a set designer does.”

“Then why were you playing dumb?” She arched her brow, clearly annoyed by his pretense.

“That part wasn’t an act.” Dekker elbowed Blayne in the ribs to another chorus of laughter.

“If you’ve finished having fun at Tori’s expense,” Lor cut in. “Can we discuss logistics?”

The soldiers immediately shifted gears while Blayne took a moment longer to abandon his amusement.

“Can all the
hunters
teleport or just the alphas?” Sid asked.

“They all can, but their ranges vary. Some will be easier to trap than others.” Lor looked around and realized Odintar was still on the command deck with Morgan. He used a telepathic nudge to summon him.

“What’s going on?” Odintar asked as he entered the galley a few minutes later.

“We’re strategizing,” Lor motioned toward the narrow bench, the only seat left in the room. “Do you have specific information on the hunters’ abilities?”

“I asked Varrik for a list, but he said they’d been uncooperative during the induction process.”

“No big surprise,” Dekker muttered. He was the most talkative of the soldiers. Sid and Kris responded when asked a question. Otherwise they remained quiet and watchful.

“Your arsenal is impressive. Did you guys bring some sort of portable containment field?” Blayne asked Dekker.

“We each have a standard issue energy cage, but
it’s
hit and miss with Mystics. Sometimes they’re trapped, other times they flash right out without a pause. That’s why the Overlord tends to send Mystics after Mystics. You’re too unpredictable.”

“And don’t forget their nanites,” Sid reminded and all eyes shifted to Odintar.

“Why are you looking at me?” Odintar took a step back then bristled.

“Have you tried to escape an energy cage since you were injected with the nanites?” Lor asked.

“I don’t like where this conversation is headed.” Odintar crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the room at large.

Lor motioned Dekker out of the booth. “We’ll test it on Odintar. If your energy cage holds him, it will probably hold the hunters.”

“Probably?”
Odintar snapped. “You’re going to torture me for a ‘probably’?”

“It’s painless.” Dekker scooted out of the booth, Sid and Kris close behind. “We need a bigger space. If I deploy a cage in here, it will rearrange the furniture.”

All the furniture in the galley was bolted down, so Lor didn’t argue. Dekker went to the armory and put on his flex-
lar
armor. He hadn’t bothered with the helmet because a smooth pad integrated into the sleeve controlled the armor’s auxiliary functions.

Everyone followed them outside,
then
Dekker and Odintar faced off.

The sun had just begun to set and the heat was still oppressive. Sand and shriveled plants stretched as far as the eye could see. Why had humans chosen to build a city in such an inhospitable location? Dekker launched the energy cage, jarring Odintar. He endured the oppressive pressure for a moment then flashed a short distance away.

“Damn.” Dekker deactivated the cage. “That’s not much help.”

“You’re going to have to try harder than that if you want to hurt me.” Odintar grinned, apparently embracing the challenge.

The low rumble of an engine drew Lor’s attention to the vehicle approaching from the southeast. With large wheels and ample ground clearance, the rugged conveyance was obviously designed for off-road travel. Dekker and Kris flanked Lor as the others moved into defensive positions. Even with the ship concealed, they weren’t taking any chances.

The driver stopped the vehicle a short distance away and rolled down his window. “I’m looking for Lor. My name is Elias Bertram.”

Lor motioned for the others to relax as he moved forward to greet their visitor. “I’m Lor dar Joon.” Elias opened the door and unfolded his long legs from inside the compact vehicle. Though dressed in jeans and a pullover shirt, his short brown hair and muscular build hinted at his military background. He held out his hand and Lor shook it. “Let me introduce everyone.” Lor provided each man’s name and Elias shook their hands.

The human’s gaze returned again and again to Dekker, or actually Dekker’s armor. Lor expected Elias to rattle off a barrage of questions. Instead he looked around for a moment then said, “I thought you had a ship docked out here.” His disappointment was unmistakable.

Lor watched the newcomer closely. “You have to pass the interview before you get the job.”

“Understandable.” Elias met Lor’s gaze, keeping his expression open and calm. “Ask me anything.”

“How long have you worked with Morgan?”

Gold and brown streaks gleamed within the humans green eyes. The combination was often called hazel. “I work
for
Morgan. She doesn’t flaunt her authority, but we all know who has final say.”

The slick evasion arched Lor’s brow. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“Six years, sir.” Along with the deference came military formality. Apparently Elias had realized Lor intended to conduct an actual interview. “I’ve held three positions. I’m currently leader of Morgan’s tactical team.”

Meaning Morgan had other teams?
Research, recon, maybe an infiltration team?
Interesting.
“Have you ever encountered an honest to God alien?” Lor leaned in and asked the question with dramatic inflection.

Elias’ brow furrowed and he leaned in as well. “I was under the impression that I’m speaking with one now.”

Lor finally smiled. “Morgan told me you’d been fully briefed. I was just checking.”

“I understand the background of the Shadow Assassins and the importance of our mission.”

“Good.”

“Should we continue, sir?” Dekker prompted. “We have other strategies to test.”

“Do you honestly expect me to stand here all day and let you launch shit at me?” Odintar laughed, but his expression was anything but amused.

“What is the current objective?” Elias asked, clearly confused by the exchange.

“Capture,” Lor told him. “The rest is moot if we can’t find a way to keep the hunters in one place.”

“Is capture the only acceptable outcome? How much force has been approved?” He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not as bloodthirsty as that made me sound.”

Unwilling to risk the safety of his men and the success of their mission on Mason’s assessment of her comrade, Lor scanned Elias’ mind. Lor kept his mental touch light and agile, scanning only as deeply as he needed to ascertain the human’s basic nature. He sensed strength and determination, honor and…
pain
. Despite Elias’ easy smile and confident demeanor, he had suffered both physical and mental agony. The wounds were deep and expansive, yet Elias was actively working on recovery.

Lor withdrew with a sigh. He had yet to scan a mind that was pure goodness or pure evil. Humanoids seemed to contain a complex blending of the two. Elias’ darkness might be undeniable, still nothing Lor sensed compromised the human’s trustworthiness “Unless we manage to find them all in one place—which I doubt—we’ll need to interrogate each captive.”

“Understood.”
Elias clasped his hands behind his back and waited for more information.