by Carysa Locke
"Samuel."
Another mind vanished from her awareness. Reaper was across the street now, almost directly across from her position. Try as she might, she couldn't see him. That was good. If she couldn't, neither could they.
"Danger close, target on the offensive."
Damn it. Six men left. One more disappeared. Five. The distinctive low whine of a plasma rifle went off.
The man beside Mercy suddenly turned, angled towards her. She was still hidden by the vines. He was scanning the area in front of her position, watching for any sign of Reaper. If she moved, he would see her. She was at an awkward angle for a lunge. She waited.
Seconds later, more plasma fire sounded, two shots this time.
Four…no, there were six minds agin. Seven.
Wait. These felt different. Strange. They crackled with an odd energy that made it hard for her to focus. She winced.
Oh. Oh no. These weren't human. Eight. Nine. Adrenaline hit her system in a rush.
Reaper, beasts incoming!
She rolled forward and thrust with her soul blade through the vines, cutting them and stabbing her blade straight into the man's throat. Or, she meant to. He jerked away and the soul blade sank into his shoulder.
Shit.
She went to cut again, but he evaded. The vines tangled in her feet and she went down hard. Pain blossomed in her head, her vision flashing white.
Mercy.
Lilith? It was so faint she could hardly hear it.
Her vision cleared and she looked up to see the merc swinging his plasma rifle towards her. She threw out a blast of telekinetic force, knocking him back. He went down, landing right in the middle of a cluster of fungi, spores puffing up all around him.
Mercy jerked back, covering her mouth and nose with her sleeve. They had no idea what those spores did. They could be harmless, or…
The man started to roll to his feet, but mid-motion he stumbled, coughed, and caught himself on his hands and knees. He coughed again, wheezed, and dropped to the ground. His skin seemed to bubble, rippling with a movement that made her gorge rise.
He went still. His mind snuffed out. All over his body delicate little shoots sprang up, orange and green. In seconds, he was covered in the fungi.
She scrambled back. Did everything on this planet want to kill them?
At a safe distance, Mercy rolled onto her side. Her head throbbed with the movement, and she groaned. That was going to be one mother of a headache. She felt gingerly at the side of her head. Wet, but she couldn't tell if it was blood or muddy water, or both. She staggered to her feet. The strange minds were closer, closing fast. She took off running. The whole thing had taken only a few seconds.
Ten new minds. Dear Mother, how many were there?
Mercy ran straight to where she felt Reaper's mind. He caught her arm as she reached him. All of the humans were dead. He’d killed the rest all at once, forgoing caution and using his Talent.
"How many?" he asked.
"Ten," she gasped. "It's a pack. I don't know if they're the same as the beast we already saw. They feel strange. Wrong. Their minds crackle like…I don't know. It sort of hurts to focus on them."
She pointed in the direction she could feel them coming from. "They're closing fast."
"Yes, I feel them." He frowned. "They're shielded. Strong." He looked down at her, his blue eyes bright. "You need to run."
She tugged on his arm. “I will, with you."
"No. You need to run. Get back to the ship. I'll hold them here."
"Reaper—”
“Mercy, go.” He shoved her away from him. He used his arm but boosted it with his telekinesis, propelling her a good ten feet.
She nearly fell, catching herself with an ungainly pinwheel of her arms.
The alien minds were close now. Reaper’s eyes bled to ice as he turned away from her, blades in his hands.
Two forms flashed across the road, leaping from building to building with frightening speed. She caught a glimpse of striped fur.
Fuck that. Mercy ran, but she ran towards Reaper, not away from him.
Mercy—
"No." Mercy grasped his arm. She opened her Talent up wide and pulled on the wintry cold that was Reaper's until it suffused her. It spilled through her like water into a cup. All of her fears and anxieties died. Calm spread through her in a soothing balm. She let go of his arm. She could see herself reflected in his eyes. Her own had changed from moss green to icy blue.
This wasn't the first time she'd done this. His Talent was the first she'd ever borrowed for herself, using it to kill Willem Frain. Now, she would use it to stand beside him and fight for both of their lives.
She let go of his arm, turning so she was angled back to back with him.
"This isn't running," Reaper said. But he, too, turned to face the oncoming pack. The moment to escape had closed. Even if she left now, the beasts would be on her too quickly.
She didn't reply to him. Together, they watched as striped shapes leapt along the skyline of rubble all around them, getting closer with each jump.
"You won't be able to target their minds," Reaper said, "but don't forget there are other ways to kill with Talent." The closest beast landed on the building beside them, barely touching the top of the wall before it was springing up once more, a leap calculated to land on Reaper.
Mid-leap, a sharp crack sounded. It's body jerked and went lax, tumbling awkwardly. Reaper stepped back, and it hit the ground in front of him. Mud splashed, spattering them both. It's legs twitched reflexively, but it was dead, the weird light of its mind gone.
Reaper had snapped its neck.
Three more reached them in the next second, leaping to the ground to circle more warily now. There was intelligence there, gleaming in the vertical slits of their pupils. The rest of their eyes glowed a strange orange, unlike anything Mercy had ever seen. The tendrils above their ears undulated in the air, but their worm-like appearance no longer bothered her. Mercy had never felt more calm in her life.
The things were huge, towering over them. With Reaper's Talent active, she could see the weak leg on the smallest of the beasts, an old injury that he no longer favored, but a point she could exploit.
Reaper was the stronger fighter. She knew without having to ask that he would take the two strongest himself. They needed to act now, before the rest of the pack arrived.
With a flick of telekinesis, Mercy sent muddy water flinging into the eyes of her opponent. She was moving as it growled and ducked its head, swiping out with one massive paw.
Mercy had to cant her head up to watch the creature's eyes. It snapped its odd muzzle at her, triangular teeth clacking. An eery growl reverberated from its throat, almost a whine that raised the hair on the back of her neck. Mercy darted forward, following a feeling that told her when and how to move. Her soul blade cut across the creature's chest and down the weak leg, white smoke rising from the wound. It screamed and jumped back. It held the injured leg off the ground, curling it close. The beast’s growl lowered an octave, and Mercy was sure terror would have followed that sound if she hadn’t been immersed in the cold cocoon of a Killer’s Talent.
It came at her with teeth and claws in a series of lightning fast attacks. She moved to evade, but a paw caught her full in the chestplate, razor sharp claws scraping across it but failing to penetrate. The force of the hit knocked Mercy back, and she punched out with Talent, hitting the thing in the head. It staggered, shaking its head like a dog. Mercy dove forward, rolling through mud, the wet and cold seeping into her clothing. She thrust up with her soul blade and hit the beast below the jaw, straight up into the brain. It fell, its heavy weight trapping her arm so she had to spend time wiggling free.
Reaper was suddenly there, between her and another beast bearing down on her.
Too slow, he said, dispatching it with a punch of telekinesis that tripped its feet so it staggered right into his blade.
Mercy got back to her feet.
Five beasts were left. Reaper had taken four to her one. With each kill the creatures grew more cautious. Two were on the ground, circling Mercy and Reaper slowly, while three more crouched up high on rubble or the remnants of buildings. Their tails lashed as they waited, their eyes glowing that eerie orange.
They’re going to rush us, Reaper said. Probably in waves. The ground team will try to distract us and the real attack will come from above. We’re not waiting for that. Follow me in, watch my back.
Several chunks of rubble near Mercy wobbled and moved, rising up off the ground slowly. Following his lead, she grabbed several pieces herself, lifting them with her telekinesis.
Now. Reaper moved. The pieces of rubble flew in like missiles. The creatures dodged, but one yelped and staggered, unable to completely evade. By then, Reaper was on them, white smoke rising into the air as his blades moved too fast to follow. One of the beasts went down.
Mercy sent her projectiles high, aiming to keep the creatures up above off their backs. They dodged and crouched low, their growls growing in intensity. Muscles bunched. They were going to attack.
A plasma rifle lay in the mud ten feet away. With a thought, Mercy brought it to her just as the remaining monsters launched into the air. She fired, missed, fired, and hit. A yowl of pain. Mercy barely had time to throw up a telekinetic shield, and then an animal roughly the weight of a small vehicle plowed into her. The shield broke and Mercy went down, thrusting up with her blade. The creature screamed and snapped sharp teeth at her face, its breath hot and smelling of rot and death.
They fell together in a tangle of limbs, the creature’s weight pressing her deep into the mud. Mercy cut down the length of its body. White smoke swirled around them both, distorting her vision. The creature went still, its weight crushing. She struggled to draw breath.
Darkness closed her in its grip, hard and fast. The world faded out. No. No! Desperately she struggled against it, but it was futile. She spiraled down into the dark.
"There you are, you stubborn woman!" Lilith spun towards her. They were standing in her grandmother's house, a gentle breeze swaying gauzy white curtains that hung at the huge windows. Those were new.
"I have to go back." Mercy faced Lilith, arms crossed. "I don't have time for this."
Lilith wasn't impressed. "Idiot child, you know time doesn't run here. You've been avoiding me."
"Lilith, you pulled me here in the middle of combat! Right now I'm slowly being suffocated by a giant cat monster that weighs as much as a small shuttle."
"Don't be so dramatic," Lilith said. "You'll be out for a second, if that, and this is important."
"You think everything you want is important. Meanwhile, I've just abandoned Reaper in the middle of a life and death situation."
"That man can take care of himself."
"That's not the point." Mercy fought to hold onto her temper. Lilith didn't make it easy.
"Fine, if you want to go back, go back. I'm sure Sebastian will understand when I tell him you weren't interested in his message."
Mercy froze. Temper lost the war against hope. "Sebastian? You've seen him?" She spun in a circle, as if he would suddenly appear here.
"I have. Briefly." All sarcasm vanished, and instead Lilith looked pensive. "He's not in a good place."
"Where is he?"
"With her people. Safe enough, for now, but cut off from his Talent."
"That's why Treon can't find him."
Lilith paced in the most overt gesture of insecurity Mercy had ever seen from her. That alone amped her anxiety.
"Why did they take him? It was Octavia, right?"
"Yes, yes. The teleportation girl grabbed him." Lilith glanced at Mercy. "He wants me to tell you not to come for him."
"What? No. That's not happening."
"I told him the same, but he was insistent. He seems to think we'd be walking into a trap."
Mercy snorted. “Well, he's not wrong. But it doesn't change anything."
Lilith gazed at her for a long moment. "I thought the same thing, initially. But since you've blocked me out, I've had time to consider."
"Blocked you. I didn't block you."
"You did. It was my fault, I suppose. I should never have tried to take control."
Mercy's eyes narrowed. She thought about that moment with Cannon, how it had felt, the power that had spilled through her. "Is that what happened?"
"Among other things, yes. We were both angry, worried about Sebastian, and outraged at the idea of leaving him. I…inadvertently pushed past my boundaries and tried to take a more…active approach."
“You mean you possessed me."
Lilith canted her head. "No, at least not completely. But I did influence you, however unintentionally, and by doing so I took momentary control over how you were reacting."
That was the most frightening thing Mercy had heard lately, and considering the day she was having, that was saying a lot.
“Don’t do it again,” she said, but since when had her grandmother listened to her?
But Lilith surprised her. “I will try,” she said. The way she clasped her hands together betrayed some anxiety. Did Lilith not have full control over how she interacted with Mercy?
“But, since you’re so concerned about getting back, I should get to the point.” She went on to outline the type of ship Sebastian was on, the number and abilities of his captors, and to reiterate his instruction that Mercy was not to come for him.
“Two Killers?” That was worrying. “And Thirteen.” Mercy didn’t know what to think of that. He’d played it close, but she knew Treon had been searching for the woman these past months. And here she was, kidnapping pirates.
“And that girl, of course. The teleporter.”
“Did he describe Octavia’s demeanor? Is she a willing participant?”
“No. He just stressed that you stay away. I told him it was useless, of course. You love him. You won’t be leaving him under her influence.” Worry lines appeared on Lilith’s brow. “You won’t, will you?”
Mercy didn’t answer. Her head was spinning with all of this information.
“Mercy?”
She opened her mouth to answer Lilith, but a tremor suddenly shook the house. Like ripples cascading through a pond.
“What the hell was that?”
“You’re still fighting the connection!” Lilith said. “Stop.”
“I’m not doing anything!”
“You are!”
It happened again. Lilith cursed and stepped towards Mercy, holding her hand out as though she intended to grab her. White faded into the room until the window, the curtain, and the furniture all disappeared.
“No!” Lilith reached for her, and vanished.
Color and sound assaulted Mercy. She wheezed, trapped underneath a suffocating weight. Leveraging with her telekinesis, she lifted the body and shoved it up and off.
Dazed, Mercy struggled back to her feet. The plasma rifle was gone. She had to wipe mud from her eyes to see. The last of the beastial minds snuffed out, and she turned to see Reaper stepping away from a body. White smoke drifted in the breeze behind him. Blood and mud coated one of his arms. It dripped off his hand. Talent showed her the scope of the injury. Claws had gouged deep into his shoulder, raking down his bicep.
She could take him.
The thought came out of nowhere. An injured Killer was the best time to attack one. Every weakness was an advantage to be exploited. Her mind automatically calculated the odds. He was the better fighter, but she was his Queen. It would take effort for him to overcome the instincts that urged him to protect her. Effort that would slow his attacks and give her the opening she needed. She could see it unfold in her mind, almost choreographed.
“Mercy.” Reaper watched her closely. “You need to let go of my Talent.”
Of course he would say that. Releasing it would give him back the advantage.
“You are not a Killer. You’re a queen — mine. You’re my consort. I’m your s
trongest ally. Remember who you are.” He spoke softly, carefully. His blue eyes met hers, and color rushed back into them. “You are my partner.”
I love you. He said the last part in her mind.
The words touched something beyond the clinical assessment happening in her brain. She hesitated, and let the icy touch of his Talent go. Emotion filled her in a rush that left her dizzy. Cold bit at her extremities. Her body ached, sharp pain in her left shoulder and knee, a dull throb in her head. She leaned over and dry heaved, suddenly sick with the adrenaline aftermath of the battle and how close she’d come to dying.
“Nikolos.” She gasped his name, and he was beside her in an instant.
“Deep breaths. The change is a shock to the system. Zion used to get sick every time.”
“You’re injured,” she said, staring at the blood that drenched his arm. His armored clothing had knit itself back together, but blood still soaked it, slicking the material to his skin.
“It’s fine.”
It wasn’t. The cuts were deep, and they’d been rolling around in mud and who knew what else.
“We need to clean them,” she said.
“We will. Not here.”
On that, they agreed. She couldn’t wait to get away from this place.
They turned to go and something caught her eye in the mud, almost buried. She reached down and grasped it, lifting it free and flicking it clean of the mess that came with it. Reaper stepped closer.
“What is it?”
She showed him. “A stasis unit.”
Face grim, he took it from her and examined it more closely. “So, they meant to capture us alive.”
“I wonder why? I thought Treon said the bounty wants us dead.”
“Maybe they weren’t working for the bounty.”
It was a disquieting thought. He handed the unit back to Mercy. She wasn’t sure if it would even work anymore, trampled in the mud as it had been, but she shoved it in her pack anyway.
Boss. It was Ghost. They both heard him. Mercy straightened, Reaper’s good hand a comforting presence against her back. I think we’ve got something here. This is a big ass door. It’s built of some kind of strange material. I can’t get in, not even in ghost form. I think this is it.
