Tethered (5 page)

“You should rest up for the next few hours until the feeling passes completely.” Callista packed her gear into her belt and prepared to leave. “You shouldn’t need me again though.”

Tyree felt Zander’s grip on her slacken, and regret clutched her. “Are you going too?”

Zander hesitated. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be left alone. Do you want me to stay?”

Now there was a loaded question. It grated on her to feel so helpless. She was Su, a fully trained assassin, and genetically perfect. It seemed weak to rely on a human, and yet she wanted him to stay. Damn him.

“If that doesn’t cause you a problem.”

“Not at all.”

“Don’t worry if she suddenly falls asleep. That amount of neural activity is equivalent to a week spent wide awake on stims. She’ll crash in a few minutes and sleep it all off.” Callista nodded to them as she left, and Zander gestured for Visaya and Pevanne to follow.

Once the door closed behind them, he sighed. “I should never have let you out of my sight. It won’t happen again.”

Tyree laughed weakly. “What if I need to pee?”

The comment startled a burst of harsh laughter from him. “Well, perhaps only then.”

Mild irritation flowed over her sense of helplessness. “I’m supposed to be protecting you. Not
needing
protection. I’m a Su, damn it!”

“Whoever tried to kill you thought you were Mirsee.”

One of Zander’s security came into the room. “Sir?”

“What is it?”

“We think we’ve found the culprit.”

“And?” For the first time, Tyree heard a snap in his voice and felt the fear flowing from him.

Was he afraid the attack had been successful? Does he actually care about me?

“It would appear to have been a suicide mission. The man’s dead. One of the crew from the recent transport.”

Tyree shivered. So her assassin had been on her ship the whole time? If only he’d known his intended target had been smuggled aboard the same craft. If only
she’d
known...

“So close, and yet so far,” she murmured.

Zander tightened his grip as if in reassurance. “Make sure that transport doesn’t leave. Put all her crew in containment until they’ve been verified. And I want everything triple checked in future!”

“Yes, sir.” The man snapped out a salute and retreated.

“I’m sorry,” Zander said.

“For what?” Lethargy seeped through her body, and she found herself leaning gratefully into his warmth. It was almost like stepping back into Refuge and the welcoming glow of auras after a mission away. A blanketing embrace. Her eyelids drifted down, too heavy to stay open.

“That you’ve been thrown into this. I wish there had been another way. I wish...Mirsee?”

Had he confused her with his lost love? Or was he wishing to have her back? The questions swirled away in her mind as she sank into sleep.

***

The room was white, a simple square cell with a single plinth extending from one wall. A young man lay there on his back, his bare skin pale gold compared to the stark, clinical white of the walls. She drifted closer, keeping her incorporeal form. They’d sent her in naked for her first. She’d yet to earn the silken robe woven from artificially grown Su hair that would shift with her as she Misted.

He turned heavy-lidded eyes toward her, the blue irises almost swallowed up by pupils distended by narcotics. He showed no fear at her half-formed appearance.

Tyree hesitated. Was she really ready for this? No question physically—she was majority age, after all, and Inc-Su matured earlier than humans biologically. But mentally, she questioned it. One of her kin-group had teased her, told her how much the first time hurt, how she would bleed and why, until she had run sobbing to their group Mother, all control shattered. As a result, the whole kin-group had watched as the thirteen strong council of Inc-Su publicly Dissipated a renegade Incu for his crime, a stark warning to the youngsters of what punishment awaited future misbehavior. Even now, the writhing, screaming form tormented her dreams. Weeks of intensive therapy had followed to dampen her fear, both of Dissipation and sex, but it had never been a complete cure.

She reached for his aura, the living energy field she would consume. Mostly placid blues and hazy silver from the drugs. A touch of yellow—the edge of anxiety, probably from being in a strange place. The colors swirled together, a symptom of his confusion. And then, blinding in its ferocity, the pure white of innocence.

She gasped and stopped. This man—this
boy
,
only just past majority age—had committed no crime. His soul was clear.

“Kill him!”
The command shattered her resolve.

“He is innocent!”

“That is irrelevant. You must be able to kill regardless of what you sense.”

Shock quivered in ice-cold threads through her veins. This was wrong. To kill under orders, to kill in war, in defense, even at the behest of higher powers—that she could accept. She’d never been told she would have to kill an innocent for a mere test.

“I won’t.”

“You don’t have a choice. Kill, or die.”

Her inner voice keened.
“There must be another way! Give me another target, someone guilty. Anyone, please...”

“This is your target. One of you will not leave this room alive. Your choice.”

Mothers and Fathers!

What kind of choice was that? He didn’t deserve to die.

But she wasn’t prepared to die for someone else, either.

Mothers, forgive me...

She took solid form at last and sat astride the youth. His response to her soft presence, to the pheromones she had exuded from the moment of her arrival, was hard and instant. She mounted him a little hesitantly and, as she had feared, there was a fleeting instant of pain. She quashed the sensation as she lowered herself onto him fully, and he moaned, his head lolling back and his hands reaching to grasp her thighs. His lust and pleasure rolled into her body, and it washed any uncertainty and discomfort away. She lost herself in the heat of it, the pulsing ecstasy. Oh, that was good!

She moved experimentally and more pleasure rippled through her body. A moan came from her own mouth and, as he moved his hand up her body, softly caressing, she shivered. He cupped her breasts, sliding his thumbs across her nipples, and she gasped as fire sparked in her. She leaned down to him, claimed his mouth, and the warmth and softness of his lips fuelled her need for more.

Oh, Mothers...

She could lose herself in this completely.

Focus!

Her training, the instructions ingrained in her memory, clamped down on her enjoyment, souring it. She pulled back slightly but maintained her rhythm, slow and sure, pushing them both toward climax. She wasn’t here to enjoy herself, although that would be permitted once she had passed this test, but it seemed such a shame to waste the experience. Her first sexual partner was attractive and willing, his young, lithe body arching beneath hers as he thrust up to meet her with each stroke, head thrown back in his euphoria. Every pulse of pleasure in his body mirrored and augmented in hers. The time was coming.

He gasped and quickened his pace, and she had to gather her control not to run wild in his mind. She would need all her concentration. But it was difficult as he surged deeper into her body, already losing himself. She rode the wave of ecstasy with him, bathing in the rapturous light that flowed around and between them, pure life energy spiraling out of check. That was the key, the force she needed to harness and take—taking his life with it.

She bit her lip as they reached climax together. The blaze of furious pleasure ripping through their bodies made her want to scream, to let go and fall into it. But she couldn’t. Another need swamped her, took the edge from it. As he hit orgasm, the energy flared and she drew it in, pulled every last thread into herself until she felt her skin would tear from her flesh and her heart would explode. It took her beyond the euphoria of release, lifted her higher. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see.

Then she collapsed forward, all her strength gone, her body weak and shaking. For a moment she dragged in air as if she had been starved for hours, before finally levering herself upward. The youth’s eyes, already glassy, stared up at her in blank accusation.

She’d done it. She’d made her first kill.

***

Splinter-fine jabs of pain ran through her body and she jerked awake. Instinctively, she reached for the familiar cloak of kindred auras...and found nothing. She was alone, in the dark, the sweat from her nightmare plastering the fine fabric of her shift around her. Too tight. Too constricting. Far too hot.

With a growl, she tore it over her head, hearing the material rip before she tossed it aside. Naked, she slid from the bed and paced her room. Her ability to see auras gave her a form of night vision, the confines of her room outlined in gray due to the dead energy from the shielding. A chill washed over her skin, and she hesitated. The Monitor system must have been back on. It had detected her high body temperature and moved to compensate with a cooling surge. Sudden goose bumps rose over every inch of her flesh.

An ache seized her chest, and she sank onto the bed, gathering the blanket around her shoulders. Damp and chilly, she shivered uncomfortably inside her shroud. Her head still felt a bit fuzzy. Probably the last traces of those damn neurosonics. How stupid she’d been, a reputedly expert assassin like herself falling for another’s trap. Allowing her irritation and unease to rule her thoughts had made her sloppy. She should’ve been treating this as another assignment, keeping herself in combat mode.

Her fingers and toes still prickled, but something else nagged at her psi senses. A presence. Familiar, and yet not. She flexed her shoulders as if trying to shrug it off, and then tensed. Someone was in the room with her.

She snapped into combat mode and dropped silently into a crouch, the blanket sliding off her back. She stilled her breathing to listen. Yes, there. Someone else breathing, slow and deep. A relaxed sound.

Bewilderment held her frozen. She tried to Mist out in order to drift upward, but either the attack or the drugs used to compensate had made her body’s response sluggish. She couldn’t hold her incorporeal form, and frustration seethed under the surface. Instead, she shifted forward to lean on her hands, the soft fibers of the carpet pressing between her fingers as she edged around the corner of her bed. A shape, vaguely humanoid, slouched in the depths of the sofa.

Without hesitation she pounced, wrapping arms and legs around the figure and pulling them both to the ground. Her victim let out a gasp then a groan as she rolled them over to sit astride him, gripping his windpipe hard enough to strangle. Instead of Misting out, she increased her molecular density to a crushing weight.

“’ree!” he wheezed, and she loosed her grip in that instant.

“Zander?”

She sat back and he coughed, moving one hand to massage his throat. “I see you have recovered somewhat,” he managed at last, the beautifully smooth voice rasping from her attack.

Tyree forced herself back into neutral mode, and embarrassment flamed through her body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize...” The heat of him beneath her burned into her thighs, and a strange confusion of physical desire and deepening shame rippled through her. She scooted off to the side, but didn’t attempt to cover herself.

He levered himself up to a sitting position. “Mute lights.”

A soft yellow glow banished the darkness. To her surprise he was smiling, although he still rubbed at his throat. Livid red marks showed where her fingers had dug in, ready to crush and throttle.

“I’m glad to see there are no long-term effects from the attack,” he said.

“You were lucky. If I’d been at full capacity—”

“You would have known sooner that
I
wasn’t your enemy.”

Tyree bit back a retort. True, if the neurosonics hadn’t fogged up her senses, she’d have realized it was Zander the moment she woke.

“You seem to know a lot about Su reflexes and perceptions.”

“I do.”

Although he was smiling, he kept his eyes fixed very firmly on her face and Tyree could sense his unease. Could read it in his aura.

She grinned suddenly. Always the diplomat, huh? Never showing what he really felt, and yet right now she knew exactly what he was feeling and trying so hard to deny behind those smooth manners and that easy voice.

Slowly, she pushed herself onto her feet and rose. Zander instantly tried to mirror her, but his gaze dropped down her body before he yanked his head aside. The faintest hint of red colored his unblemished cheek as he averted his eyes.

Ah, so it seems you
are
a flesh and blood male...

After all, he’d just pretty much seen every inch of her. And what man wouldn’t look at a naked woman given the chance? For an instant she wondered if he’d note any differences there. Especially if she were identical to someone he’d loved.

A flicker of his pain touched her. The faintest thread of guilt wound through her chest. This wasn’t fun. This was cruel. Regretting her actions, she reached for the bed sheet and wrapped it around herself.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “Blame it on the sonics. I’m not normally quite so...unprofessional.”

Or so apologetic, either.

“If you were acting in your professional capacity, I’m sure I wouldn’t be alive to consider it,” he returned. “I didn’t want to leave you alone again.”

“Thanks.” She finished knotting the sheet around her waist. “That’s very considerate of you but, as you can see, I can take care of myself.” That she’d let someone get past her defenses just made her all the more determined not to be compromised a second time.

“Then I’ll leave you to your privacy now.”

“Zander...” He kept his eyes averted, but stopped at her call. “Thank you for staying. I do appreciate your concern.”

He nodded but didn’t look at her as he left. Sadness washed over her at his departure. Now she was truly alone. And it seemed she’d hurt his feelings with her thoughtlessness.