by Carysa Locke
Surely, at least the slavers and mercs would have noticed when they came down through the atmosphere. Unless they’d landed on the other hemisphere, but Treon couldn’t see why they would have.
Their reasons for being here should put them in basically the same area. This city was one of the few vestiges of civilization left.
It was extremely tempting to take a quick look with his Talent and see what he could find. He leaned forward, laser focused on the view of the decimated city, considering the wisdom of lowering his shields just that little bit.
Treon.
He nearly jumped, he was so startled. Had he just imagined that voice? Had insufferable boredom finally made him hallucinate?
Treon.
He had definitely not imagined that. A light, feminine voice. Not Mercy. Not Feria. Who, then?
Help. Sebastian said you would help. Please. Can you hear me?
Sebastian. Excitement rushed through him. At last! Something interesting was happening.
Very carefully, he reached out a subtle strand of Talent, seeking the mind that called to him. He didn’t know the mental pattern; it wasn’t someone he’d ever spoken to before. She sounded young and frightened.
Octavia? It was a reasoned guess.
Yes.
And just like that, he had her. The pattern of her mind was so clear, as unique as the crystalline formation of a snowflake. In the future, he would always recognize the brush of her thoughts, the unique shape of them.
What startled him most was how very close she was.
You’re here? On Arcadius?
Yes. I need your help. We need it.
Sebastian is with you.
Yes. Her mental voice had dropped to a whisper. Abruptly, she was gone. He reached for her on instinct, barely stopping himself from doing more. But if she’d gone silent, it was likely with good reason. Frustrated, he waited, poised on the verge of sending his mind to find her.
But a move like that was not subtle. He would risk drawing attention they couldn’t afford.
So he waited. At least he was no longer bored.
“Hey.” Titus strode onto the command deck. “Everything’s—”
“Quiet!”
To his credit, Reaper’s dog didn’t ask questions. He went silent immediately, coming to stand beside Treon, patient and steady.
“All of the power relays were fine, just like I said they would be—”
Treon waved an irritated hand and the hatch swung closed in Max’s face. “Hey!” came the muffled cry from the other side.
Titus and Treon both ignored him. The minutes crawled by slowly.
Oh no. This time Octavia’s thoughts were frantic, panicked. No, no no. I can’t—
She was gone. The pattern of her mind disappeared from his thoughts.
Grim, Treon gestured to the pilot’s chair. “Get the ship prepped.”
Titus sat and immediately began the pre-launch routine. “What’s happening?” he asked.
“Nothing good.” Abandoning caution, Treon reached for his brother. Reaper, we have company. The Alpha Queen’s forces are here.
His brother did not answer. In fact, Treon could not feel his mind. How annoying. He sent a manual message, instead, using his datapad.
The Alpha Queen’s people are here, and where the hell are you that I can’t find you?
The answer was not long in coming back.
The Enclave. Talent cannot penetrate its walls. Apparently.
Treon’s eyebrows rose. Well, well. This planet was just full of surprises.
Chapter Seventeen
Akyra dug her knife into Sebastian’s torso, twisting it as she cut him. She had a gift for finding the most painful spots, places that caused excruciating agony, but each one superficial.
In other words, her torture wouldn’t kill him, but he’d wish he was dead.
He held back a scream, unwilling to give the psychopath the satisfaction. There was no question she was getting off on hurting him. Her eyes shone with eagerness each time she scanned his body for the next place to hurt him.
It was so obvious, even Thirteen cast a disapproving look at the young Killer, her mouth turned down in a frown.
Yes, Sebastian thought at her, your pet Killer is crazy.
Thirteen flicked a glance at him. While he hadn’t meant the thought to be telepathic — in fact, he couldn’t make it telepathic right now — he had no doubt she’d understood. He wondered if Thirteen’s interesting ability with Talent also connected her to those she affected. She’d eased off on blocking his Talent, but he still didn’t have full control. Just enough to restore the link between him and his Queen. Not enough for him to reach her telepathically. They wanted to use him to draw Mercy here.
He suspected she was also able to block enough of Octavia’s Talent to keep the girl from teleporting. Octavia had sent him a panicked look shortly after they left the ship, which he interpreted to mean she’d realized her Talent was limited in some way.
Thirteen didn’t trust her not to run, which put a big obstacle in their escape plan. Now, Sebastian was restrained by a binding field. He couldn’t run, could barely twitch. Only his head was left free, he assumed so his screams could be heard.
Which, given what he knew of this planet, seemed like a bad idea. Thirteen didn’t seem worried about the lethal quarantine, or any creatures that might roam the surface. But Sebastian was extremely conscious of the fact that when something came along, he’d be the only one of the group unable to run for safety.
He watched Octavia, who stood a few feet away looking anxious and afraid. She was trying not to watch what was happening to him, but her gaze was drawn again and again, as if she couldn’t bear to look away completely. If he could have told her to teleport herself away, he would have. It was cruel to divest the girl of her best means of saving herself. Maybe, if they were attacked Thirteen would change her mind and let Octavia go free.
He wasn’t counting on it, but hoped for it all the same.
Akyra heated her blade this time, pressing the flat of it to the sensitive skin where his neck joined his shoulders. He couldn’t hold back a scream. The smell of cooking flesh hit him as the knife sizzled. His brain went white with the pain. He wasn’t even aware she’d removed the blade until she stepped in front of him, holding it. The burning was still so intense he couldn’t tell the difference.
Panting, he tried to regain control. It had been years since anyone took the time to deliberately cause him this much agony, but it was hardly the first time he’d been tortured. As a child, he’d lived in terror of dying the entire time, sure that this time, his owner would kill him. As a man, he’d rather die than allow himself to be used to draw Mercy into their trap.
He worked with what little moisture was in his mouth, and spit in Akyra’s face. It was a move calculated to enrage her, but she had enough Killer within her to casually wipe the spittle away and simply look for the next spot to hurt him.
He could feel his mind beginning to drift. The pain was still too present, he hadn’t yet achieved the distance dissociation allowed, but it wouldn’t be long now. It was a defense he’d perfected in his youth, and one that returned easily, like an old friend.
When Akyra’s blade flashed toward him again, he braced instinctively. The pain blossomed bright and fresh. She was good. Normally, all of the hurt would begin to blend together, losing effectiveness the longer things went on. But Akyra had a gift. He wondered if she was using her Talent, bastardizing it in some way to strategize the best way to wring the maximum amount of pain from him.
Blood flowed freely down his side. She’d cut just a hair too deeply.
Koal, who was keeping the closest eye on her, cursed. “You’re not supposed to kill him, Kyra,” he said.
Thirteen strode over. She leveled a look on Akyra that actually seemed to have an effect on her. The girl shrank back, knife held protectively close. Sebastian had the feeling she was planning how to kill Thirteen, who examined the wound and then rounded on her
, cold and angry.
“Do it again, and you’re done,” she snapped. “We need him alive. I’m not about to risk our asset because you can’t do your job.”
“He’ll live long enough to get his Queen here,” Akyra said. It was reckless, he thought. She was arrogant, underestimating Thirteen. It was a mistake that might eventually cost her.
The woman in question stepped up close to Akyra, stopping when only inches separated them. She didn’t seem afraid of the knife in the girl’s hand.
“You will do as you’re told,” she said, her tone deceptively mild. “Or you can go sit on the ship like the child you are.”
Akyra stiffened. Her hand clenched tighter on the knife. “I’m no child,” she said.
“No?” Thirteen gave her scathing up and down look. “I know children with more control than you, and they aren’t Killers.”
“I can do this.”
“Then prove it. He stays alive until I say otherwise.”
Their gazes held for a tense few seconds, and then Akyra dropped hers.
“Good.” Thirteen stepped back, not turning her back to the girl. Smart. She jerked her head at Koal. “Stop that bleeding. We don’t need him bleeding out.” She took a moment to study him. “I think perhaps your bond is too weak. We should have seen or sensed something by now. Let me see what I can do about that.”
In the next moment, Sebastian gasped as his connection Mercy seemed to suddenly flood him with emotion. Thirteen was wrong. The bond wasn’t weak; it had been blocked somehow. But now his pain carried down the link to her and resonated back to him. What was happening to him was hurting her.
That was so much worse.
“That should do it.” Thirteen didn’t look at Sebastian again as she strode back to Kieran, who hadn’t so much as twitched throughout the conflict.
Sebastian had expected the older Killer to leave as soon as they disembarked the ship. His job, apparently, was to hunt down Mercy. But for some reason they wanted to draw her here, instead. His stomach tightened. Because Thirteen wanted to capture her alive to take back to the Alpha Queen. Something Sebastian wholly supported only because it kept Mercy alive.
She has Reaper, he reminded himself. That man would never let them take her.
He barely felt it when Koal sealed the wound in his abdomen. His focus was on Kieran and Thirteen, who looked deep into a telepathic conversation. He’d give anything to know what they were saying. A few moments later, Kieran left, disappearing down a crumbling street into the predawn light. The day was upon them, and yet there were none of the usual signs most planets had of morning. No birdsong or insects, no sounds or sights of wildlife waking to the day. Just the lift of darkness and a low hanging gray fog that chilled him to the bone.
Akyra began her work again, and Sebastian couldn’t hold back his screams, as hard as he tried. More than merely wishing to escape the pain, he hoped he wasn’t dooming them all.
Reaper looked at the group and calculated their chances. His gaze rested on Cannon. “Get the injured back to the ship.” That would remove Mercy, Cannon, and Feria from harm's way.
Mercy, of course, protested.
"But you're injured as well,” she said.
"It's fine. I need to be out there.”
“Then I’m going with you.”
“No.” He shared a wordless look with Cannon.
I'll protect her, the pirate King said on a personal thread.
I know. Aloud, Reaper spoke to all of them, but his gaze was focused on Mercy. “Don't stop for anything. Use the buildings as cover. Make straight for the ship.”
“Reaper.” Mercy grabbed his arm. Her jaw tightened in that stubborn way of hers, and her eyes shone with fierce intensity. “We need to stay together. Especially to get Sebastian back.”
“No.” Gently, he disengaged her hand. “Why do you think they brought Sebastian here?”
Mercy hesitated. “I don't know.”
He tilted his head. “Yes, you do. There is only one reason: to draw you out. They have a Killer who can track you. The only reason to draw you to them is to lure you into a trap. They want to take you alive, and that's the only good news about this.”
Her determination wavered. “There are only three of you.” Her gaze took in Declan and Ghost as well.
“Four. Treon is going to provide a distraction.” Being Treon, Reaper only hoped his distraction didn't make things more difficult for all of them. “We need to leave now. The other Killer will be headed here. The sooner the rest of you get back to the ship, the better.”
“You think he'll come after me,” Mercy said flatly.
“Not if I find him first. Use your Talent to hide. Can you extend it to the whole group?”
She hesitated. “I think so.”
“Do it. Go now.” He nodded to Cannon, knowing the other man would protect Mercy at all cost. “Declan, Ghost, you're with me.”
He half-expected Declan to protest. It wasn't his first choice to bring him. Declan was the worst sort to have in this situation: arrogant, determined to prove himself as stronger and better, and he resented Reaper's leadership. If he got in the way, Reaper wouldn't hesitate to kill him. Better Declan dead than bringing the rest of them down with him.
They put data crystals and hard copies back on the shelves, drones coming in behind them and activating the stasis cubes. The AI, Vera, appeared as they armed themselves, preparing the move. Her hands were clasped loosely behind her back. For a holo projection, she was disturbingly human.
“All of you have permission to enter the Archives in the future, as scholars who have shown respect for the knowledge here. The door will acknowledge you now.”
“Thank you, Vera,” Mercy said.
The AI nodded to her, and then vanished.
Reaper led the way up. Halfway there, Mercy fell to her knees with a cry of pain. Cannon caught her, and looked at Reaper, his expression grim.
“I don't think she can run,” he said. “Not like this.”
Reaper recalculated. They'd be safe in here, for a time. “Stay here with her. Keep her safe.”
“No!” Mercy struggled to her feet, pulling away from Cannon. “I can make it.”
It was Feria who rolled her eyes, pushing past Mercy and stopping in front of her. “Stop arguing. Answer one question for me: can you cut yourself off from Sebastian? Keep from feeling whatever the hell he’s going through?”
“I—maybe.” Mercy looked stricken at the thought.
“It has to be yes or no,” Feria said. “Because maybe isn’t good enough. I’m not risking my life on a maybe. Yes, and we run for the ship. No, and we make our stand here.”
“Yes.” Mercy exhaled, calm falling over her with the long breath out. “I can do it.” She closed her eyes. They waited. “I think—” Her whole body shuddered. “I think I have to withdraw my claim.” She opened her eyes and met Reaper’s gaze. Hers shone with worry. “I don’t know what that will do to him. I don’t like cutting him off so completely.”
Reaper was more practical. “He’ll survive. You can reconnect your claim when we get him back.” He knew Mercy needed more reassurance than that, and made himself continue. “We survived for over a decade without a Queen, Mercy. One day won’t kill him.”
“You’re right.” She rubbed her hands on her thighs, clearly still agitated.
Feria crossed her arms. “I suppose now isn’t the time to bring up how you once told me you had no idea how to rescind a claim, and couldn’t if you tried?”
Reaper glanced at her. “No,” he said. “It’s not.”
“It’s easier to focus on one person,” Mercy snapped. “You were talking about thousands of people scattered across the galaxy. I don’t even know how I claimed that many in the first place.”
“Semantics,” Feria said.
Reaper focused on her until the other woman lifted her hands in surrender and stepped back.
It took longer than he liked, Mercy’s expression one of concentration and
frustration. The minutes ticked by, and Reaper debated the wisdom of separating now and leaving the others to go when they could. No. He needed to know if this worked, and the selfish part of him wanted eyes on Mercy for as long as possible before she left for the ship. So he waited, and eventually her shoulders hunched and she gasped, pulling both hands convulsively to her heart.
“It—it’s done.” She sounded on the verge of tears. “I can’t feel him.”
Cannon wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Reaper nodded to him. He wished they could take the time for comfort, but too much had passed already.
“We have to move,” he said, and started back up the stairs.
“Stop.”
Akyra continued carving pieces out of his flesh until Thirteen strode over and grabbed her arm. Sebastian didn’t feel it. The howling emptiness inside of him eclipsed all other pain. It was like someone had ripped out a vital organ and the gaping hole it left threatened to swallow him whole.
“Enough. Torturing him is useless now.” Thirteen gave him a measured look. “She’s severed the claim. He no longer belongs to her.”
Was that what this was? His vision blurred, and he didn’t know if it was because Akyra’s ministrations, or because the loss of his Queen was more acute than any pain he’d ever felt before.
Lilith’s death had been painful, but not like this. Maybe because of the residual connection he had to her spirit or consciousness.
This was just…nothing. An emptiness so overwhelming he didn’t think he could stand it. Even as a slave he hadn’t felt this cut off and alone. He felt himself spiraling, and could do nothing to stop it.
Akyra got in his face, a frown puckering her brow and making her look older than she was. “Something’s not right,” she said. “We’re losing him.”
“What did you do?” Thirteen demanded. She examined Sebastian as though looking for the fatal wound.
Akyra rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t me. Everything — mostly everything — I’ve done is superficial. This is something else. It’s like the will to live was sapped from him with the severing of the bond. He’s—I don’t know. Turning inward.”
