Rebel Heat (13 page)

She chuckled, amazed by how easily he changed gears. “We both know how well I do that.”

“Once the female’s physiology transforms, making her more compatible with the male, she also becomes compatible with his nanites.”

“How does that transformation take place? Does it happen with all Rodytes or just Shadow Assassins?” He’d piqued her curiosity. That was for sure. They were talking about the elusive ability that had originally drawn Sevrin’s attention.

“The transformation is more dramatic with us, but it happens with every Rodyte.”

“But how? What triggers the transformation?”

“Can’t you guess?” He rocked his hips, subtlety rubbing against her. “Each time the couple mates, they become more compatible, more unified.”

His lips brushed her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She swallowed hard and tried not to squirm. “And the nanites? What would they allow the females to do?”

“Nanites are what heals my injuries and eradicates illness. They would make you stronger and faster, healthier than—”

“We’re not talking about me,” she pointed out in a breathy rush. “We’re speaking in generalities.”

His arm slid up under her breasts, but he ignored her reminder. “You would live much longer than an ordinary human, as would our children.”

Their children?
She wanted to laugh, but the image formed, clear and tempting within her mind. Sweet round faces with auburn hair and blue-ringed eyes.
Why was it so easy to picture a future at his side?

Because he was a master seducer! He literally taught others how to wear down the emotional defenses of their captive mates. Her mind tripped over the last phrase as she waited for a rush of righteous indignation. The thought once filled her with disgust and sympathy for the victims, yet all she felt now was discontent. She wanted, needed, something she refused to name.

“I’m not going to mate with you just so I can live for two hundred years.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you should. I just thought you should know.”

She didn’t respond, had no idea what he wanted her to say. Instead, she shoved the troubling thoughts to the back of her mind and closed her eyes. She tried to relax. A cold breeze caressed her cheek, but her body was cocooned in warmth. Their bed was surprisingly comfortable and his strong arms held her securely. The rest of the world had never felt so far away. It was just her and Nazerel, no conflict, no danger. She felt safe—which was utterly irrational!

Her eyes flew open and she stared into the darkness. How in God’s creation could her enemy make her feel safe?

His tall form contoured to her back from neck to knees. He was just lying there, his breath teasing her hair. He wasn’t touching her or trying to arouse her and yet her body ached for his. She pressed her bound wrists against her chest, as her nipples tingled for no apparent reason. She wanted him to kiss her, to hold her down and make her feel all the things she’d felt in the tent. But that was even more irrational than feeling safe in his arms.

She was the queen of hopeless relationships. That was all this was. In the back of her mind she knew nothing meaningful could come from this, so her body went haywire.

“Your pulse is erratic.” His breath was warm on her neck and the arm at her waist slid up until it encountered her elbows. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re making me crazy and you know it.”

“I’m just lying here holding you.”

He was right. She was the one who couldn’t stop wiggling, rubbing against him and… “Are you doing this intentionally?”

“Doing what?”

She pressed her lips together, refusing to speak the words.

“Do you ache, sweet Morgan?” He moved his arm down to her hips and realigned their bodies so she could feel how hard he’d gotten. “I’m not ashamed to say it. I need you
.
I want to be inside you more than anything.”

She shook her head and tried to wiggle away as her body responded with a painful clench. “I can’t.”

“I know it’s too soon for what I want, but there is no reason for you to be miserable. Let me touch you. I’ll ease the ache. If you relax, then I’ll be able to relax as well.”

“No.” She glared at him over her shoulder. “I don’t need you to touch me. I need to be away from you.” She even managed to sound determined rather than desperate, and still he chuckled.

“If you say so.”

“Take me home. No one will expect that. I can’t tell them where you’re going because I don’t know.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“I can’t take any more of this,” she cried. “Just let me go.”

His arm tightened around her and his breath escaped in a long sigh. “I can’t,
morautu.
You know
I can’t.”

“Why?” She tried to turn back around, but his arm tightened, keeping her in place. “I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn.”

“Yes you do.” He pressed another kiss to the side of her neck.

If he meant to take her off-world, she was doomed. She could not allow that to happen. “Once you get your ‘insurance policy’ from Phil, you won’t need a hostage anymore. I am your hostage, Nazerel. That’s all I am.”

“Go to sleep.” A hint of impatience crept into his tone.

She lay perfectly still, afraid to provoke him, yet not even close to falling asleep. How had she ended up in this hopeless situation? She reviewed each decision, each move she’d made, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong. There were no glaring errors. She was simply outmatched and she’d been out maneuvered every step of the way.

Maybe if he fell asleep, she could slip away and and…and what? She didn’t have a flashlight much less a vehicle and Nazerel could hear her heartbeat. Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes and she furiously blinked them away. She couldn’t give up. She
would not
give up. There had to be something she could do, some tactic she’d yet to try.

His hand stroked up her arm and then his lips brushed against her ear. “Go to sleep.” When he whispered the words this time they were laced with gentle compulsion.

* * * * *

Phil was waiting for them in his tiny storefront bright and early the following morning. Disguised as a gritty pawn shop, the store was really just a cover for his interstellar trading, which had made him an extremely wealthy man. “This was not easy to come by, especially in the timeframe you gave me to do it.”

“But you have what I need?” Nazerel asked hopefully.

“I do.” He took a deep breath then blurted, “But my fee has doubled. I took significant risks and—”

“Done.” He triggered the transfer with his comlink.

Phil confirmed the transfer then handed him a memory stick. “This contains everything you requested. I also transmitted the information directly to your device. Please verify it before you leave. I always strive for complete satisfaction.”

Nazerel’s comlink chimed and he navigated to the file that had just downloaded. He scrolled through the lengthy report, stopping every so often to verify the content, then nodded. “It looks good. Did you keep a copy?”

“No. I want no part in any of that.” He sounded sincere, but Nazerel wasn’t sure he believed him. This information was extremely valuable and Phil was first and foremost a businessman. But any threat at this point would be bluster. Nazerel wasn’t sticking around long enough to enforce anything other than goodbye.

“As usual, it has been nice doing business with you.”

“Likewise.” For the first time since they met, Phil looked uncomfortable.

“I require a bit of privacy. May we exit through the back?”

“Of course.”

He grasped Morgan’s upper arm and dragged her through the shop. They emerged through the rear exit and found themselves in a tiny parking lot nestled between several buildings. Complete seclusion would have been better, but Nazerel was still regaining his strength after attempting to burn through the collar. This would have to do.

“Don’t do this.” She twisted her arm as she jerked against his hold. “There is no reason for you to take me with you. It makes no sense.”

He yanked her to him, her back pressed against his chest as he pulled energy into his body with his other hand. The ground vibrated and clouds rolled across the sky, making the area dark and hazy. Morgan went wild, thrashing and kicking like a trapped animal. He tightened his arm around her waist, but otherwise ignored her. Ontarian Mystics called this Summoning the Storm. He didn’t care what it was called as long as it brought him to his destination.

Multiple streaks of lightning flashed at exactly the same time. Wind gusted, rocking them forward then back. He raised his free hand and a slit formed directly in front of him. The opening widened as if someone were peeling back layers of space, creating a void in between the twin distortions. Inside the void bursts of color and light danced and darted against the darkness.

Morgan screamed, clawing at his forearm as her body trembled.

“Time to go,” he shouted over the roaring wind. Then he wrapped both arms around her and leapt into the interdimensional portal.

A mental ping warned Varrik of Lor’s telepathic approach. Rather than wait for Varrik to network with Echo, Lor simply sent his signal to them both.
We have a name. No guarantee that he’s important, but he’s gone way out of his way to conceal his identity. Oh and he just appeared fourteen years ago. There’s no record of him at all before that.

What’s his name and where can we find him.
Varrik was anxious to get moving. They had already wasted far too much time searching the deserted campsite for clues.

He goes by several, but the most documented is Phillip Mortsen. He runs a pawn shop in the seedy part of downtown Las Vegas.
He rattled off an address.

Got it,
Echo assured. Her memory was infallible, so Varrik believed her.

Go get him.

Varrik wasn’t sure if Lor meant Phillip Mortsen or Nazerel, but it didn’t matter. Hopefully one would lead to the other.

Teleporting to a place one had never visited before was tricky. Varrik had studied maps and images of Las Vegas and the state of Nevada, so he knew how to find the “seedy part of downtown”. The exact location of the pawn shop, however, was more challenging. Echo had many skills. Teleporting just wasn’t one of them. So she snuggled against his chest and he flashed them to the heart of downtown Las Vegas.

The continual bustle of Fremont Street was several blocks away, yet Echo motioned in the opposite direction. “It’s four blocks over and two up.”

She must have imprinted a city map on her memory. He was pretty sure this was her first visit to Earth. “Have you ever been here before?”

“I’ve been to Earth before, but this is my first time in Las Vegas.”

Apparently, he shouldn’t assume anything about his enigmatic mate. “How many times have you been to Earth?”

“This makes trip number four.”

The area grew more neglected with each block they passed. Obviously the urban renewal efforts hadn’t spread this far from the casinos, which were the lifeblood of this city. He moved closer to Echo, his hand finding its way to the small of her back.

She looked up at him and smiled.
I can take care of myself, love
.

He knew she was a competent fighter. Still no power in the universe could keep him from protecting his mate. Not even her stubbornness.

The pawn shop was cluttered and dingy, much like the neighborhood surrounding it. Varrik was loath to touch anything and anxious to finish their inquiries and move on.

It’s designed to make people restless and uncomfortable,
Echo cautioned.
This isn’t a legitimate business.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” The proprietor or employee sat on a wooden stool behind a glass-topped display case. He was on the slim side of average with brown hair and brown eyes. He was neither handsome nor homely. Basically forgettable, which in itself made Varrik suspicious.

“Are you Phillip Mortsen?” Echo asked with a friendly smile.

“You can call me whatever you like.” He returned her smile, but didn’t answer the question.

Keep him talking,
Varrik urged as he positioned himself to prevent their target from fleeing. If the man had something to hide and he could teleport, it was highly probable that he would have flashed to safety already.

“I’m interested in novelties, things I wouldn’t find anywhere else.”

The man glanced at Varrik for one assessing moment then returned his full attention to Echo. “I’m not sure anything I have can’t be found anywhere else, but I’ve got lots of unusual items.”

“Show me your favorite,” she suggested.

Varrik eased into the man’s mind with the lightest touch he could manage. His shields were much too dense to be inherent and the pattern was well organized, obviously a practiced skill. This was no innocent human. He pushed harder and the man snapped his head toward Varrik.

“What do you want?” All pretense of ignorance was gone and faint light glowed behind the contacts covering his eyes.

“Are you Phillip Mortsen?”

“Phil,” he stressed. “Only my mother calls me Phillip.”

“Well, Phil, you sold camping equipment to a very dangerous man. The campsite has been abandoned. Do you know where he went?”

Phil shrugged. “My interest in the transaction ended the moment his funds hit my account. I’m a business man. I have no interest in anything else.”

“Lower your shields so I can verify your statement.” Varrik moved closer, his gaze locked with Phil’s. “If you cooperate, I will scan no deeper than that one transaction.”

Slipping off the stool, Phil faced him, shoulders squared, head slightly titled. “What gives you the right to scan me at all? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“To operate a business on foreign soil you must have a government sponsor. Who is sponsoring you?” Phil reached under the counter and Varrik grabbed his wrist. “Slowly.”

“You asked to see my charter.” He pulled a laminated document out from one of the shelves behind the counter and placed it in front of Varrik. “Now show me your credentials.”

Varrik pulled out his badge and flipped it open. “I’m on special assignment for the Ontarian Overlord.”

“Good for you. I’m Bilarrian, so you have no jurisdiction over me.”

“You did business with an Ontarian criminal. That gives me jurisdiction and the authority to scan your memories.”

Phil rolled his eyes and made an impatient sound. “Then get it over with and get out of my shop.”

Varrik eased back into Phil’s mind and found his primary shields lowered. To a less skilled investigator, it would have appeared that Phil was cooperating fully. Varrik, however, was no ordinary investigator. He’d spent decades learning how to manipulate memories. “You can show me the past two days or my mate will touch you and take the memories from you. We’re only interested in your interaction with our target, but she will have access to every image, every thought, contained within those two days. The choice is yours.”

“I’ve broken no laws. Both transactions were within the parameters of my charter.” Phil’s worried gaze shifted from Varrik to Echo and back.

“
Both
transactions?” Echo moved closer to Varrik. “What else did you sell our mutual acquaintance besides camping equipment?”

“I don’t honestly know what it was. Some sort of scientific study. The whole thing was way above my head.”

“And where did you get this ‘scientific study’?” Varrik suspected he knew the subject of the study, but he had no idea how a Bilarrian trader would have gotten his hands on it.

“Our mutual acquaintance gave me a name, told me this other person owed him a debt of honor, but our mutual acquaintance couldn’t contact him directly. I was basically a messenger. All I did was facilitate the exchange.”

Varrik looked at Echo for a moment, but her expression was unreadable.
Do you believe him or do you need to touch him?

I’m not sure yet.

Every time she absorbed a memory, it remained perfectly clear within her mind forever, so she only used her gift when there was no other choice. He turned back to Phil and asked, “Do you have a copy of the study?”

“No. I prefer to deal in merchandise. Information might pay better, but it always leads to trouble. I’ve stayed in business this long because I avoid trouble. Or at least I try to.”

“But you had to have seen what you gave him. What was the study about?”

He swallowed hard then scrubbed the lower half of his face with one shaking hand. “I knew that man was trouble. Should have listened to my conscience rather than my wallet.”

“What did you see?” Echo’s tone coxed rather than demanded and Phil immediately looked at her.

“Genetics. There were diagrams with the DNA spiral and phrases like ‘transition’, ‘controlled mutation’ and ‘empowered offspring’. That’s honestly all I know.”

Varrik wasn’t surprised. Sevrin’s research was the only scientific study conducted on Earth that would interest Nazerel. “Show me this other man’s face and we’ll be on our way.”

Phil crossed his arms over his narrow chest, looking persecuted. “If anyone finds out I gave up one of my customers, I’ll be finished on this planet—or dead. There are a lot of people who depend on the services I provide.”

“No one needs to know.” When Varrik eased back into Phil’s mind all of his barriers were gone. He quickly located the pertinent memories and absorbed the necessary information. “I’d like to remove the memory of our visit so there will be nothing to incriminate you. Do you agree?”

“Only if you take it all. Wipe my memory of the last two days. I want no part in any of this.”

It was a common request. Once people realized they were involved in something dangerous, they often wanted to turn back time. “I must implant a believable reason for the lost days or your natural curiosity won’t leave the implant alone. Do you ever overindulge in alcohol or drugs?”

“Make it an illness. I’ve been sober for the past nine years.”

“As you wish.” Varrik meticulously erased the events involving Nazerel then constructed faint memories of a burning fever and long delirium. Erasing memories was a straight forward withdrawal of energy, while constructing them required a higher level of proficiency. Echo helped him return Phil to his stool and then they hurried from the shop. Phil would emerge from his trance in a few minutes feeling dazed and tired, but remembering nothing of their visit or his interaction with Nazerel.

“What did Phil show you? Who did Nazerel have Phil contact?” She slipped her hand into his as they walked briskly down the street.

“That’s the problem with spies. If you find a motivation powerful enough to convince them to turn, it’s likely someone else can find a similar motivation.”

“Is that a convoluted way of saying Nazerel shamed Flynn into helping him?”

“Basically.” He pulled her into a dank alleyway several blocks from Phil’s shop. “We need to update Lor and find out exactly what Flynn gave Phil.” She wrapped her arms around his back and pressed against his chest. He located the telepathic beckon pulsing in the transport deck of the Bunker. Short jumps were almost instantaneous and required little energy. Opening an interdimensional portal, on the other hand, could tire a Mystic for days afterwards.

They were greeted by an armed guard, but the soldier immediately lowered his weapon when he recognized the unannounced visitors.

“Where is Lor?” Varrik asked. “It’s important.”

“He’s in his office, sir.”

Rather than humiliate himself by asking directions from a human, Varrik pinged Lor’s mind and requested the information telepathically.
We have news. Show me the way to your current location.

Lor complied without slowing him down with questions. Varrik took Echo by the hand and hurried through the corridors. Elias was with Lor when they reached the small room that served as a command center/lounge. A cluttered desk and office chair had been arranged in the far corner, while an unmatched collection of furniture clustered around a vending machine and beverage station.

“What have you learned?” Lor appeared fully engaged though he remained seated on one of the couches.

Varrik glanced at Elias who sat in an adjacent chair. “What did you promise Flynn in exchange for his cooperation?”

Elias and Lor exchanged “oh shit” expressions before Elias said, “Basic amnesty. He helped us catch the others and his charges were dropped.”

“Were there any conditions put upon the exchange? Any situation that would void the deal?”

“Just spill it, Varrik,” Lor advised. “What have you learned?”

“Nazerel is out of the collar and Flynn gave him some sort of report. We need to find out exactly what the report contained. Where is Flynn right now?”

Lor scooted to the edge of his seat, looking progressively more uncomfortable. “He’s locked in his quarters. His charges were dropped, but that doesn’t mean we trust him. I’ll summon him immediately.”

“No,” Elias cut in. “Have him escorted here by someone who can keep him from flashing. If he suspects we know he’s been passing information to Nazerel, he’ll take off.”

Lor nodded then glanced off into the distance, likely making the arrangements Elias had suggested. His attention returned to Varrik as he asked, “Is Nazerel still on Earth?”

“We’re not sure,” Varrik admitted.

“Where would he go?” Echo mused. “He can’t return to Ontariese and he has no living relatives left. He’s a stranger in a—”

“He has relatives on Rodymia,” Varrik corrected. “In fact most of the Shadow Assassins do.”

“Do you?” The challenge in Lor’s tone was unmistakable.

“I’m a direct descendant of the founder, so my father was born in the Shadow Maze. That’s not true for most of the others. Their fathers, or occasionally their grandfathers, chose to leave their lives in the world above and become part of the world below. Many left brothers and sisters behind when they made their decision, which left relatives scattered across the face of Rodymia.”

“Have many of them remained in contact with those family members?” Lor was clearly displeased with the revelation. “Why is this the first I’ve heard of Rodyte relatives? Was this taken into consideration by the Overlord and High Queen Charlotte?”