Dark Swan

by Gena Showalter

  Lilica Swan. A delicate name. Practically a song . . . a lullaby.

  "Were the two females part of the staff or were they patients?"

  "Lilica hasn't confirmed or denied either option. No matter my . . . persuasions, she's remained mute on the subject."

  "Has she told you anything?"

  "Not nearly enough. Let's question her together, shall we?"

  2

  Lilica Swan sat in the center of her cage. She'd remained like this for weeks . . . or mere days? Though the barred walls were so tall she could stand to her full five-foot-nine-inch height, she preferred this position. She could observe the happenings around her without drawing unwanted attention. A predator's trick of the trade.

  To her right, four armed guards played holocards. They discussed recent conquests in detail and elbowed each other in the ribs. To her left loomed "the table." Knives of every shape and size were scattered over the surface. The Targon who'd captured her liked to stroke one or six while speaking with her.

  Once he'd used the serrated blade on her. He'd held her motionless with a stream of energy and cut shallow lines into her neck, arms, and legs. A painful and humiliating process. Other times, he'd stabbed her outright.

  She'd healed, of course, but as weak and malnourished as she was, she'd healed slower than usual. The last wound he'd inflicted had yet to fade.

  Memories of her torment sparked flames of rage deep in her chest. Can't use my powers on him. Not yet, not yet.

  When the time came, well, she would ensure he got his.

  Though she still couldn't amph another person's life force without skin-to-skin contact, her abilities had only grown stronger over the years, her skills more honed. She could amph--and kill--within seconds. The biggest obstacle, currently--she couldn't amph effectively and use voice voodoo at maximum capacity in the same day. For the best results, she had to choose one or the other and follow through; no changing her mind midway.

  "--ordered not to go near her?"

  Her ears twitched as the guards brought her into their conversation. Doing her best to appear bored--listen in? what? who? me?--she attended to their next words.

  "Why else? Because she's his sex slave."

  "The greedy bastard doesn't like to share."

  "Who does?"

  "Especially a woman like her."

  Silence fell over the group as all four males studied her with renewed interest. One gaze burned with malevolence while another crackled with lust. Both expressions were familiar to her. Two of the men regarded her with . . . compassion?

  She couldn't be sure, considering she'd so rarely encountered it.

  The Targon had commanded the foursome to wait outside every time he'd visited; they had no idea what he actually did to her. She'd assumed he'd wanted no witnesses to his crimes, but now she wondered. . . .

  Did he suspect the two with maybe, maybe not compassion in their eyes would try to help her?

  "If she keeps her mouth shut, he'll never know he's shared her," Malevolent said.

  "Oh, he'll know," Lustful replied with a shudder. "He always knows."

  "Believe me when I say you don't go against the orders of Devyn Targon and live to tell the tale. Just . . . don't go near her."

  She dubbed him Not As Dumb As the Other Guys, or Nadatog.

  He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "Okay? All right?"

  She smiled her coldest smile at Malevolent. Come near me . . . dare you.

  He snapped his teeth at her, but he also slid his gaze away from her. The latter was a usual occurrence with almost everyone, and one she should have been used to.

  Lustful finished off his beer, banged his chest, and belched. "No man is ever as bad as his own legend," he said, acting brave.

  "You're right. Devyn is worse."

  She named him Might Actually Survive My Wrath. A.k.a. Masmw.

  "The Targon won't ever know he has reason to strike at me." Malevolent stroked his chin, thoughtful. "I don't think the girl even knows how to speak. Or how to move."

  Now a slow grin lifted the corners of Lustful's mouth. "I bet I could get her to move."

  Crude laughter echoed from the walls.

  Suddenly the only set of usable doors opened, light spilling into the building . . . garage? . . . to illuminate the dust motes dancing through the air. The guards leaped to their feet, Lilica forgotten, the pungent odor of lust quickly replaced by the tang of motor oil, fear, and--she sniffed--the surprisingly floral scent she would forever associate with Devyn. Today, there was another scent mixed into the melange. Something new and incredibly sweet.

  Hinges squeaked as the door slammed shut, and Lilica maintained strict control over her ability to blend into her surroundings. Control she'd honed over the years.

  Two imposing male figures stepped from the shadows. The king and a companion.

  While the Targon was as beautiful as ever, her gaze simply grazed over him, snared by the other man. Finally!

  She'd found the blue-eyed man Jade had warned her about. The one her sister had claimed she would meet through the Targon. The very reason Lilica had allowed herself to be "abducted" in the first place.

  He was the key to finding Trinity.

  His dark hair could have used a trim, and yet it provided the perfect frame for his face--a face both rough and gorgeous.

  He's a warrior and a seducer. To her surprise, he took her breath away.

  Bronzed skin spoke of a Spanish heritage, but ethereal eyes of arctic blue hinted at alien ancestors. No, not just hinted. Screamed. He was an Arcadian. A strong one, judging by the buzz of power even now reaching out to stroke her, which meant he had to come from one of the more prominent families. But the only other Arcadians she'd encountered possessed fair hair and skin.

  Was he, perhaps, a hybrid like her?

  She scrutinized the rest of him, and any air she'd managed to return to her lungs was snatched all over again. His body was a masterpiece of muscle and sinew. Strength radiated from him, so much a part of him it was like a second layer of skin.

  Her mouth watered, her own body suddenly hungry . . . starved.

  Her brow furrowed with confusion. Hungry for what? Him?

  His gaze pursued her languidly before lifting and colliding with hers. She gasped as a zing of electricity arced between them.

  He missed a step.

  Unlike most people, he didn't look away or stare at her as if she were a circus freak. He eyed her with . . . appreciation?

  "Leave us," the Targon commanded in his smooth voice.

  In seconds, the guards beat feet outside.

  In front of her cage, the Targon smiled with his customary smugness. "How's my favorite prisoner?"

  Until she knew exactly what these two men could and couldn't do, and what they did and didn't plan for her, she had no desire to use voice voodoo, revealing her ace and demolishing her best defense.

  So she batted her lashes at him and said, "Why don't you come in here and find out, handsome?"

  Arctic Eyes jerked as if he'd been punched. Liked the timbre of her voice, did he? He wasn't the first, and he wouldn't be the last.

  The Targon had never reacted to it, and today was no exception. He clenched a fist over his heart, as if wounded. "I know a death threat when I hear one, beauty, and yours might as well have been a dagger through the heart. However shall I recover?"

  He called her "beauty" only as a taunt.

  The other man said nothing. And never removed his gaze from her. Seconds passed in silence, adrenaline and something else, something she couldn't name, scorching her veins.

  In the whole of her life, she'd had almost nil interaction with anyone other than her sisters, the old farts who'd raised her, and the aliens and humans they'd brought to the lab with orders for her to boost or kill; she had no idea how to react to the physical sensations this man evoked.

  "A dagger through your heart," she finally said, her gaze returning to Devyn. She sighed wishfully. "A girl can d
ream."

  "Yes, she can." He stalked to the table and stroked the hilt of a blade. "But should she?"

  How predictable. What he didn't know? There was nothing he could do to her that she hadn't already endured. And a thousand times worse!

  For a moment she wondered what would have happened if he'd brought her here and pampered her. If he'd simply asked his questions rather than demanded answers. If he'd treated her with kindness.

  He would have thrown her for a loop, that was certain. She might have cooperated fully. Perhaps they could have worked together.

  When he'd sneaked into the lab, she'd hidden with Jade. Intimately acquainted with every hidden nook and cranny of the building, they couldn't be found if they didn't want to be found. Especially Lilica. But Jade had seen into his mind . . . had caught glimpses of Trinity and her interactions with the arctic-eyed man. . . .

  At that point, Lilica would have tied herself up and presented herself to Devyn on a silver platter. Instead, she'd moved to a hiding place he could easily unearth and pretended to be shocked and dismayed when he'd discovered her.

  He grinned at his friend. "Did I mention my prisoner is a sasshole?"

  Arctic Eyes shook his head, the action clipped.

  Well. She'd been called much, much worse. "Don't leave me in suspense, Targon. I'm metaphorically dying of curiosity. What's your friend's name?" Act casual. "Does he get to play with me too?"

  Finally the male in question spoke up. "I'm Dallas."

  The coarse resonance of his voice caused her nerve endings to heat. She frowned. People reacted to her; she didn't react to people. "Like the city in New Texas?"

  Silence.

  "Like the old TV show," Devyn answered for him, clearly amused with himself.

  "Well, whatever you want to know about me," she said, "I won't tell you willingly. You'll have to beat it out of me." No more waiting, she decided. Once she got Devyn inside the cell, she would finally amph him, causing his own ability to control her motions to kill him. Then she could deal with Arctic Eyes.

  "Beating you." The Targon tapped a finger against his chin. "Isn't that what I've been doing?"

  "You've been love-tapping me." Was goading him a too-obvious tell? Maybe, maybe not. But she had no other recourse at her disposal. "I hate to break it to you, big boy, but acting like a pussy is the leading cause of uterine cancer in men."

  His amber eyes narrowed, while Arctic Eyes barked out a laugh.

  That laugh . . . her nerve endings boiled.

  "Oh, don't you worry, beauty. I won't be a pussy. I'll be a complete dick, you have my word." Devyn picked up the serrated blade, the silver metal glinting in the light cast by the single bulb hanging over her cage.

  "You'd do that for me? My hero!"

  Contrary to his boast, he said, "We'll start today's Q and A with something easy. You spent time with the Schon queen, but you aren't infected with her disease."

  His friend stiffened. Why? When their gazes met a second time, his expression revealed nothing.

  She faked a yawn. "I didn't hear a question."

  Devyn exchanged the serrated blade for one with a hook. "This morning Dallas had a five-star vision of shooting her, and I'd like to do my part, ensuring that vision comes true. So. You're going to tell us whether you're immune to the disease, and if so, how you're immune, how you know Trinity, if she's contacted you recently, and anyplace you think she might go to hide."

  A barbed lump grew in Lilica's throat. Seeing into the future was an Arcadian ability. The same ability Jade possessed. If Dallas had had a vision of shooting Trinity . . . most likely killing her . . .

  If he hoped to kill her . . .

  He would do so.

  No. No! Lilica would die first. He would die first. Her hands curled into fists.

  Metal banged against her cage, making her gasp.

  Devyn stood in front of the door, she realized.

  "Do I have your undivided attention, beauty?"

  He wasn't inside the cage, but he was within reach. If she could get her hands on him before he gained control of her motions . . .

  How would Dallas respond? With violence?

  Worth the risk.

  He hadn't moved from his spot, and his expression remained blank, as if he'd completely removed himself from the situation. Except . . . the pulse at the base of his neck beat swiftly, and like hers, his hands had curled into fists, his knuckles white.

  "You have my undivided attention," she said. "Let's see if I can get yours."

  She dove toward Devyn--

  Contact! Her fingers curled around his wrists, her flesh instantly adhering to his.

  "Aw. You wanted to hold my hand?" Devyn smiled. "How adorable."

  Silent, she pushed a charge through their link. The charge returned to her. He had defenses she'd never before encountered; they were almost like firewalls in a computer. No matter. She sent another charge, and another, until those firewalls thinned . . . vanished. He didn't fight her, because she wasn't hurting him--she was helping him. Or so it seemed. . . .

  She sent another charge, this one strong enough to make his body quake.

  His eyes widened, and his indulgent smile disappeared. He tried to yank his hand from hers, realized they were stuck together, and yanked harder. Again it proved unsuccessful, allowing her to hit him with yet another bolt of power.

  Scowling, he yanked with every bit of power she'd just fed him and finally broke the suction. Agonizing pain ripped through her, and she bellowed, stumbling backward. The scent of old pennies filled the air, and she peered at her hand. She'd removed hunks of his skin, the mutilated tissue dripping crimson onto the cement floor.

  Devyn gave her a faux pout, seemingly impervious to his own wounds. "I hate to add more bloodstains to your clothing, beauty, but you're going to bleed buckets before I'm finished with you."

  Dallas stepped in front of him, as if to have a go at her himself. But . . . he just stood there. Intending to stop his friend before he hurt her?

  Wishful thinking. No doubt he wanted a front-row seat to her downfall. And she would fall. At least for a little while. Devyn's words were more than a scare tactic; they were a vow.

  Never let them see your pain. "You call what I'm wearing clothing?" She tsked and smiled at him. The glow-in-the-dark jumpsuit was a staple of IOT and all she'd ever worn. "You are too kind. And haven't you heard? Blood is the new black."

  Both men peered at her, silent. Baffled by her boldness?

  They shared a look, but still didn't speak a word, and she wondered if they could communicate telepathically the way she and Jade did. A link she'd struggled to maintain since her capture. Because of the distance between the garage and the institute, she had to use more power than she could spare, which was why she'd only checked in once a day as proof of life.

  Devyn tapped a bloody finger to his chin, leaving a smear of crimson. A smear that should have been obscene--on him it was right at home. "Either you're afraid of what Trinity will do to you if she finds out you betrayed her--which means you fear the wrong person. I will do much, much worse than she could ever dream--or you like her, maybe even consider her a friend. Otherwise you'd help us. So tell me. Which is it?"

  Panic threatened to overtake her. The more they knew about Lilica's connection to Trinity, the less her chances of success. Reveal nothing. "You're the world's worst host." Blithe smile. "Why would I want to help you with anything?"

  He arched a brow. "Do you think she's going to swoop in and save you? She won't, I assure you. I've never met a more self-serving individual--and I meet myself every day." He shrugged. "I told you the day I found you I wouldn't hurt you if you told me everything you know about Trinity. The deal still stands."

  "Why should I believe you?" She ran a finger along her neck, where he'd last sliced her. "What makes you think I know anything?"

  "Perhaps my Spidey senses are tingling."

  She didn't understand the reference--unless his DNA had been spliced with a
spider's in a lab? Whatever. She would never tell him the truth or even attempt to weave a lie. The scientists had lied to her always, about everything and nothing. A beating was preferable to emulating the ones she despised.

  Devyn's head tilted to the side, his examination of her intensifying. "What's your endgame?"

  Easy. Once Lilica had dealt with Dallas, the newest threat to Trinity's life, then found and cleansed her eldest sister of the Schon--somehow, some way--the Swans would leave New Chicago for good and start over.

  Start over? Please. They'd finally start. Live for the first time, do normal things like grocery shop and date. Move into a normal house. Drive a car. Host a cocktail party. Celebrate the holidays like a real family. The way she'd seen families celebrate through Jade's visions. Maybe Lilica would even fall in love with a tall, dark, and handsome man, get married, and have children.

  A dull pang of longing struck her.

  Could she have children? Should she? She was part of an experiment gone wrong, not human and not alien, but the worst of both. If ever another research lab or government agency learned of her abilities, she would be hunted to the ends of the earth, and so would her kids. Their lives would end up as terrible as hers. No, thanks.

  "Tell him," Dallas said, those arctic blues no longer cold but hot on her. "Please."

  Her eyes widened. His voice! The epitome of sex. And his plea! Why? Why would he beg, willingly revealing a weakness?

  "I . . ." Want to obey him. She sucked in a shocked breath. Did he possess his own version of voice voodoo? Resist! "No. I won't."

  "Very well. If blood is the new black," Devyn said, "you'll be very pleased with what happens next." In a single fluid motion, he withdrew a gun from the holster at his side, aimed at her, and squeezed the trigger.

  No time to react. A whoosh of air, a sharp sting in her neck where a dart embedded in her vein . . . A rush of warmth tugged her toward a never-ending pit of darkness. . . .

  Son of a scientist! He'd drugged her while his friend distracted her. She fought to retain her lucidity, but her knees were too weak to hold her weight and soon crumpled. "Both . . . will . . . pay. . . ."

  "That's right," Devyn said. "You will pay. Nighty-night now, beauty. You'll discover your punishment as soon as you wake."