Ultimate Warriors (13 page)

     
But,
Julien couldn’t deny that he wanted Angel to know it. Did he want her to be his
close confidant? Did Julien want her to be more than that? Operatives were free
to marry human confidants or other operatives. Julien dreamed of marriage. He
dreamed of long, slow nights of sex with someone who would call him by his true
name.

     
Angel
touched his cheek, nipping at his lower lip. "You can’t do it. I
understand. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me."

     
Julien
darkened. "What do you want from me, Starseeker?" It would be
inappropriate for him to use her true name now that he’d refused to give her
his.

     
"No.
I’m not Starseeker. Not with you. Call me Angel."

     
He
closed his eyes, seeking her mouth urgently. "Angel," he breathed.

     
"I
gave you my name, because I must confide in you
..
You
must know that I trust you."

     
"Tell
me." Julien nuzzled his face in her hair. He’d wanted to do that since the
first time he’d seen her walking toward him. "Tell me why you’re doing
this."

     
"Trust
me. Trust me as I have trusted you."

     
A
rational kernel in his mind argued that Angel was Grellan and was, by
definition, not to be trusted. A larger portion wanted to trust her. Trust your
gut instinct.

     
No.
Empathen died, because he trusted the wrong person, a Grellan. "I will
try," he promised. What more could he promise?

* * * *

     
Angel
sighed inwardly. It wasn’t enough. He had to trust her fully. She stroked him,
searching his expression as he grew thick and heavy in her hand.

     
"Let
me know when you trust me," she breathed.

     
Soulchaser
groaned aloud to her touch. "How real can this be?" he whispered.

     
"I
don’t know," she admitted. Angel had never attempted what she was doing.
Soulchaser was much stronger than any man she’d connected to in the past.

     
His
fingers stroked her inner thigh. "Open for me."

     
Her
heart pounded against her ribs. If the others knew about this, they would not
approve. Angel spread her legs wide, bowing up as his cool fingers probed at
her heat. "Yes," she hissed.

     
His
mouth closed on her nipple, and Angel bit back a scream of pleasure, aware of
her family in the next room. His hands were everywhere; stroking, squeezing,
testing and teasing at her skin.

     
"Come
for me." His voice surrounded her, the phantom touch of his breath on her
ear.

     
Angel
kissed him, using the sensation of his mouth on hers to remind her not to cry
out as she was swept away. She sucked in gasping breaths as her body released
for him.

     
Soulchaser
nipped at her ear. "You smell so good." He moved down her body,
laying teasing kisses on her stomach, her curls, her clit.

     
She bit
her lip. "Soulchaser," she breathed. Angel would have begged if he’d
asked her.

     
He
didn’t ask. Soulchaser’s tongue caressed her inside and out — slowly, as if he
read her need for that approach. He didn’t back off, thrusting and stroking
until she shattered again.

     
Angel
ground her teeth against the scream building behind her lips, sinking to the
bed beneath her and closing her eyes in exhaustion. "Will you come
again?" she asked.

     
"Yes.
Will you tell me what you want from me next time?"

     
"Come
to me naked," she requested. Breaking his training would not be easy. She
would have to make Soulchaser more vulnerable to accomplish her task.
"Next time, come to me naked."

     
Angel
faded from his mind, as Soulchaser groaned again. Yes. She would be able to
break his training given time and the right incentives. She had to make him
think and make him question. He was faltering in that respect already. But to
win, she had to make him want something more than the life he had. Every
Calante she’d contacted in the past had wanted out. Turning Soulchaser was much
more difficult. He didn’t realize that he wanted out yet, but Angel had to free
him.

     
She
pulled the quilt around her body, sinking into a twilight sleep. The connection
was always wearing, but this time it was all the more so. Soulchaser had tired
her body to match her overworked mind.

     
Angel
smiled in her half-sleep, memories of Soulchaser making her warm and weak.
Going to him in the nude had been a necessity of her power. The idea of teasing
him sexually, of using her nudity to draw him in, stemmed from his interest in
her. Soulchaser was adept at hiding his feelings from those around him, but
that was impossible inside the connection.

     
It was
never supposed to go this far. Angel never dreamed that it could go this far.
She shivered in the memory of Soulchaser’s insistent tongue and nimble fingers.
Angel was looking forward to their next encounter, not to bring them closer to
their ultimate goal but to experience more of their unique connection.

     
"Angel?"
Debra called.

     
"Hmm,"
she yawned, forcing her eyes open.

     
"Any progress?"
The older woman shifted nervously,
winding a gray-streaked lock of black hair through her fingers.

     
"Yes.
He’s agreed to meet me again." Angel smiled. "Alone. His trust will
come in time."

     
Debra
nodded. "If you become uncomfortable—"

     
Angel
waved her off. "Soulchaser is a good man."
A man
who thought only of my pleasure.
A thrill raced over her nerves. He
hadn’t sought his own pleasure.

     
"Be
careful, Angel. Good man or not, Soulchaser is Calante. He’s been taught only
his duty." Debra brushed Angel’s curls away from her eyes. "I don’t
want you to get hurt again. You started playing this game far too early."

     
Angel
sobered, nodding her agreement. She hadn’t questioned her involvement with
Soulchaser, rationalizing that anything that ultimately earned his trust would
be worthwhile. She’d pursued her enjoyment as a reward for her service.

     
Soulchaser
was Calante. The Calante enslaved her kind. The Calante had killed her parents.
The Calante would take Anthony from her and kill the rest of their family — or
worse. The Calante would use their family against them to force Angel and
Anthony to work for them, if they knew what their true power was and how it
worked.

     
Angel
brushed her fingers over the scar on her chest, fighting back her anger. I was
seven! I wasn’t supposed to be fighting a war. No. No one else could have done
what she and Anthony had that day.

     
She
nodded. "I will Debra. I will never forget what the Calante are capable
of." The next time she encountered Soulchaser, he would fall to her hands
as she had fallen to his. Then he would remember what it meant to be alive.
Before Angel was done with him, Soulchaser would want something she could
offer, at least one of things she could offer.

     
Julien
stared at the ceiling, frustrated with himself and with his errant body. He
wanted her. Angel’s responsive nature was enough to drive Julien crazy, but he
had to stay rooted in the reality of the situation. Angel was Grellan, and she
had a reason — a hidden purpose for the things she did. Whatever her reason,
could he trust her?

     
His mind
warred on that subject. His training said he couldn’t. The Grellan killed his
father. It was a societal axiom that her
kind were
not
to be trusted. Julien sighed. His powers told him something vastly different.
Angel was honest and earnest in her dealings with him.

     
Or was
she? Julien could lie to the old man, a perfect cover for his true purpose.
Could Angel do the same? He grudgingly admitted that it was possible. He’d
wondered whether she was capable of manipulating the strands she left behind,
erasing bits she didn’t want him to see. She might be able to hide her true
intentions if her power allowed it, but a real-time strand could not be faked.
A strand was a bit of the person’s essence. A strand never lied.

     
Julien
chuckled, drawing the smell and taste of Angel’s climax into his body. That had
been no act. For those few moments, Angel had been need unleashed in his hands
and his mind.

     
He
rolled off the bed, smiling. He would know what Angel’s purpose was soon
enough. Julien was highly trained. His body would obey his mind, while Angel
could be made a traitor to herself.

     
Julien
pasted on a stern face as he rode the stairpad down to the east exit. Firebrand
stood, flicking a blue fireball from hand to hand like a third-year cadet.

     
"On
report," Julien barked, making his displeasure clear.

     
Firebrand
straightened, the fireball flying up into the air and disintegrating into a
puff of smoke. He met Julien’s eyes, nodding sheepishly. "I deserve
it," he admitted.

     
"It’s
a week of extra duties this time, isn’t it?"

     
The boy
nodded.

     
"The
old man isn’t going to be happy," Julien noted.

     
"I
know." Firebrand grimaced at the idea of incurring the old man’s wrath.

     
Julien
nodded.
"Report to him.
Now."

     
"But,
you," he began uncertainly.

     
"The
others will see me back."

     
Firebrand
nodded and turned away, his face showing a good deal of the agony he was
feeling at the order Julien gave him. It was a harsh lesson. Being sent back
from assignment for a disciplinary was one of the worst things that could
happen to a new operative. Rumors would be circulating that Soulchaser was
looking to replace Firebrand by the time he hit the Academy.

     
Chances
were that Firebrand feared that very thing. If Julien dismissed him, he would
return to police duties, and Firebrand’s duties had been high-temperature
disposals, some of the most boring work a power could be assigned.

     
Julien
felt for him. Like most Calante, Firebrand would not have chosen to serve, but
the law was the law. Powers who did not serve as operatives of the Calante were
renegades — Grellan. Their powers represented a sacred trust. The ancient texts
stated, "With great power comes great responsibility." The ones born
with powers were born to serve. Anyone who refused his or her responsibility to
safeguard life and keep the peace broke with that sacred trust.

     
Firebrand’s
breach of faith had been a minor one, but minor infractions led to major ones.
The humans they protected were unnerved by unnecessary displays of power.
Making the humans fear them defeated the Calante’s purpose. Not to mention that
Firebrand’s actions denoted a lack of control.

     
Julien
mused over his own actions as he took the walkway to Sky Master at the north
exit. Was he doing the same things he’d penalized Firebrand for? Unarguably,
Julien had been lying to the old man for most of his life, but his lies had
been largely unrelated to his missions — until now. Julien sighed. That would
change when he reached the Academy.

     
He was
pursuing a sexual relationship with a Grellan suspect, connecting to her consciousness.
The fact that he continued on his course had less to do with his duty than his
libido, and that was flirting with treason.

* * * *

     
"Well?"
the old man asked impatiently.

     
Julien
scowled at him. "You sent in other operatives before I got there —
Seabeast, Birdspeaker and Mindtouch."

     
Adrien
paled, his eyes going wide in shock.

     
"Yes,
old man. I felt their presence, and it interfered with the strands," he
accused.

     
"How—"

     
"I
felt them. I feel everyone to some extent. So, what did Mindtouch tell
you?"