by Jade Kerrion
In a flicker of silence, he stepped out from behind the tree, eyes closed, and pulled the trigger three times.
Their guns fell abruptly silent.
He opened his eyes and confirmed that the three men were slain, each by a single bullet through the forehead.
Too easy. What does that make me? The perfect killer?
“You were supposed to get out of here,” Danyael said, looking up at him. The empath’s voice was pitched low, but could not conceal his pain.
Zara stepped out from behind a tree on the other side of the clearing. She stalked over to Danyael. “Never pull that stunt with my emotions ever again.” With surprising gentleness, she ducked her head under Danyael’s arm to support him. “Let’s get out of here before more of them show up. Galahad, take the lead.”
He nodded, stopping only to reload his weapon. He kept his distance from Zara and Danyael, occasionally scouting ahead, though more often than not, he fell back to make sure they were not followed. He stopped to listen, surprised at how easy it was to distinguish the sounds that did not belong, like the subtle crackling of fallen leaves beneath heavy footsteps, and how much easier it was to take care of the problem.
He left behind a trail of bodies. He did not keep count; the number was not relevant. The only thing that mattered was getting safely to the yacht. Their situation grew more precarious by the moment, not because they were followed, but because Danyael’s strength faded rapidly. The alpha empath stumbled frequently, dragging Zara down with him, but each time, she only cursed softly under her breath and refused to let go of him.
They were taking too long, and it was getting dark.
His gun in one hand, Galahad reached out to support Danyael with the other. He could feel the tension that gripped the empath. Danyael braced himself for each breath of air. Blood, bright crimson, trickled from his lips. The empath had bitten the inside of his cheek bloody to keep from screaming in pain.
Something flickered at the edge of Galahad’s attuned senses. “Get down!” He threw his weight against Danyael and dragged his friends to the ground.
A heavy tree branch swept out of the falling darkness and swung over their heads. It missed them by scant inches and landed in the bushes with a loud thud.
“Telekinetic,” Zara said. “Can you shut him down?”
Danyael’s eyes darkened as he focused his powers. He shook his head. “Shielded. I’ll need to touch him.”
Danyael pushed to his feet, but Galahad held him down. “He’ll kill you before you take another step toward him. Stay here. I’ll take care of this.”
Zara gripped Galahad’s wrist tightly for several seconds. Surely she knew, as he did, that he was the only one with any chance of surviving an encounter against a psychically shielded telekinetic.
The scent of freshly crushed grass wafted toward him. Adjusting for the speed and direction of the sea breeze would place the telekinetic…right about there.
Galahad surged to his feet, fired a single shot in that direction, and then raced toward it. He received confirmation—the scarcely perceptible sound of a bullet smashing at full velocity against a telekinetic shield and falling uselessly to the ground. He smiled faintly. He knew exactly where the telekinetic was.
Galahad fired his gun again. He was close enough to see the man smile mockingly. Bullets did not penetrate the telekinetic shield, but they did precisely what Galahad intended—they forced the telekinetic to stay on the defensive. Galahad took two more rapid steps and leapt high into the air. Momentum carried him forward and over the telekinetic. He curled forward, flipping in mid-air. At the height of his trajectory, he pointed the gun straight down and fired a single shot.
He landed soundlessly in a battle crouch and straightened slowly. He heard the soft sound of a body crumpling to the ground. Only then did he look over his shoulder. Done.
He walked to Zara and helped her pull Danyael to his feet. She gave him a steady look, and a slow smile curved her lips. Was it amusement? Approval? He could not tell; emotions were so much harder to read and understand.
“How did you know what to do?” she asked.
“Miriya told me telekinetics rarely create full physical shields when the threat is only apparent from one direction. The rest of it was a gamble.”
“A good one.” She grinned. “Did she teach you how to take out telepaths and empaths too?”
“Yes. Survive their psychic attack long enough to get your own in. Don’t let alpha empaths get close enough to touch you, because they can drive some emotions through psychic shields.”
“Some lessons you learn the hard way,” Zara said, her tone sharp. “Let’s keep moving.”
~*~
The boat was waiting for them at the pier when they arrived. With three sets of helping hands, getting Danyael onboard was not as difficult as Zara had feared. Once onboard, she glanced sharply at Lucien, who was slumped unconscious in a corner. “Everything all right?”
“Yes,” Miriya confirmed as she sat beside Danyael, her face reflecting concern and worry.
Zara directed the boat toward Lucien’s anchored yacht. From behind the steering wheel, she watched as Miriya pulled Danyael’s head to her shoulder and gently stroked his hair away from his face. The telepath wrapped her small hands around his and held on hard. It must have helped; Danyael did not appear to choke on every breath the way he had earlier, when he had been with Zara.
Why could she not do more for him?
She radioed ahead. The captain and several of the crewmembers were on hand to receive the boat when they arrived. They carried Lucien on board first, and then Danyael. Zara was the last to scramble onto the yacht. “Secure our Jet Skis, then abandon that boat. Get us back to Fort Lauderdale. Is there some kind of medic on board?”
“We have a registered nurse.” The captain’s eyes widened when he saw Danyael’s condition.
“Get Lucien and Danyael to their rooms. Have the nurse meet me in Danyael’s room.”
“Should we call Mr. Winter and Ms. Callahan? Let them know that Lucien’s safe?”
“Yes. No, wait. Hold off on that.” Zara turned to Miriya. “Can you can help Lucien?”
Miriya inhaled deeply. “I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything. I’ll need to rest first.”
“Let’s give it a few hours then. Get some rest.”
Zara stopped in her cabin only long enough to change her shirt. The nurse was in Danyael’s room when she arrived. With the help of two crewmembers, the nurse stripped off Danyael’s bloodied clothes and placed him in the bed. She covered most of his body with a thin sheet and left only his left leg exposed.
“How bad is it?” Zara asked.
Her hands sheathed in gloves, the nurse probed carefully and assessed the damage. “I don’t think any major blood vessels have been severed, but the quadriceps and supporting tendons are badly torn in several places. I don’t think the bone is broken either, but I wouldn’t discount stress fractures until we get some x-rays done. He needs medical attention. This is far beyond anything I can do with what we have on board.”
“Do we need to fly him out in the helicopter?”
“Preferably.”
“I’m not leaving Lucien.” Danyael’s voice was scarcely a whisper. His eyes were dark against the pallor of his skin. “Clean and dress the injuries. Use surgical tape and antiseptic. They’ll be good enough until I can get stitches.”
The nurse hesitated and looked to Zara for confirmation.
She hesitated too. Danyael was a trained doctor, but with his tendency to discount his own pain, he was a poor judge of the kind of medical attention he needed. “Take care of his injuries for now. We’ll make a final decision later.” She laid a hand gently on Danyael’s forehead and swept sweat-soaked locks from his fevered brow. “Rest. We’ll figure things out in the morning.”
Zara strode out of the room. It required application of willpower not to look back. She struggled against feelings of helplessness and frustration as she
searched for Galahad and Xin. They had accomplished everything they wanted. They had rescued Lucien and lost no one along the way. Danyael had been badly injured, but he was not going to die.
What else could they have hoped for?
She sagged against a wall. In a moment of weakness, she buried her face in her hands.
Danyael had been hurt. Badly.
Shit.
Could have been killed.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She fisted her hands to stop the trembling. It did not require any effort at all to recall how she had felt when she heard him scream, when the dagger sank into his flesh. She had felt pure, unadulterated terror, the kind that turned blood to ice and froze the mind.
She could handle any danger, any threat. She had been trained for it. To some extent, even Galahad, despite his restricted upbringing, was far better equipped to handle physical confrontations. Not Danyael. He was a doctor, an empathic healer. He reached out to heal injuries, not cause them.
How could she have thrown him the dagger and expected him to know what to do with it?
She had almost gotten him killed.
She needed several minutes to pull herself together, but the façade of perfect control was in place by the time she found Galahad and Xin on the bridge conferring with the captain.
“How is he?” Xin asked as Zara walked in.
“The bleeding’s under control. The nurse is going to clean and dress the wounds. He needs medical attention, but he won’t leave Lucien. How long before we get back to Fort Lauderdale?”
“About five hours,” the captain said. “We’ll be there by morning.”
“Good. Call ahead. Have an ambulance standing by.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Do we have any idea who was behind this?” Xin asked, leaning against a wall.
“No, but I’m pretty sure it’s not the pro-humanists, despite all appearances to the contrary.” Zara sighed and buried her face in her hands. “I can call Jason and ask him. If he’s not involved, it’d at least set him off on a rampage to get to the bottom of this.”
“Jason Rakehell is extremely distracted. Both the city and Pioneer Labs are suing him over the damage wreaked by Purest Humanity. You won’t be able to get his attention.”
“Don’t bet on it.” Zara smiled, the sleek and sexy smile of a woman in control.
“Besides, does it even matter? It may have been a trap for Danyael, but we sprang it and Danyael’s safe.”
“I don’t know. It feels…wrong.”
“So you’re a pre-cog now?”
Zara smiled thinly and looked up as the door to the bridge slid open. “Miriya? Danyael? Weren’t you supposed to be resting? How are you even moving around?”
“Painkillers and a shot of adrenaline. I had to see Lucien,” Danyael said, limping into the room with the aid of a crutch under his left arm. He wore a plain black T-shirt and loosely fitting black cotton pants.
Zara blinked in surprise, reminded of her first encounter with Galahad. He had been wearing much the same outfit, but in white, instead of black.
“I can’t break the hold on his mind,” Miriya reported, her voice drooping with weariness.
Zara deliberately turned away from Danyael and focused on Miriya. “I thought you were going to rest before trying,” she remarked.
Miriya shrugged. “Danyael’s rather persuasive. Besides, he had a point. If it doesn’t break with a single hard push, pushing longer isn’t going to make much of a difference.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Call the council. It may take the concerted effort of two or more alpha telepaths. Whoever put that block in there knew what they were doing and invested a lot of power in it. When we break it, they’ll probably have a migraine for a week.” She grinned wickedly. “I’m rather looking forward to it.”
“We have a few calls to make,” Danyael said. “Let’s use the conference room.” Together they all left the bridge, walking on carpet so lush it sank with their every step.
Danyael brought up the rear, and Zara slowed her pace to match his limping progress. “How did you get the nurse to let you out?” she asked with obvious disapproval.
“I smiled and asked politely.”
“Used your empathic powers?”
Her question, loaded with sarcasm, won a faint smile from him. “Maybe just a little.”
~*~
Once in the conference room, Danyael waited until everyone took a seat at the table. He turned on the videoconference equipment and punched a few numbers into the phone.
Alex Saunders, director general of the Mutant Affairs Council, answered promptly. His eyes scanned quickly across the screen. “Miriya, Danyael, what happened?”
Miriya glanced at Danyael, who deferred the responsibility to her with a weary shrug of his shoulders. “We traced Lucien to one of the islands in the Bahamas owned by Purest Humanity and rescued him,” she said.
“Well, that explains the energy signatures that sent our tracking equipment into a frenzy. Quite a psychedelic show.” Alex turned and looked steadily at the empath. Something in his eyes darkened. “Danyael, you—”
“I dropped my inner shields. Ten people died,” Danyael said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion, though his dark eyes reflected anguish.
Alex inhaled sharply and slowly released his breath in a sigh, an oddly defeated sound. “You need to come in, Danyael.”
“Lucien needs help. Whoever took him put blocks in his mind. Can you…can the council help?”
“You need to turn yourself in first, Danyael. What you’ve done is incredibly serious. I can’t stress enough how much so. We can’t have a conversation about Lucien until we can assure the government that you’re in our custody.”
“They were going to kill Lucien and me,” Zara interjected. “Does that change your decision at all, Alex?”
Alex Saunders hesitated. He said slowly, “I’m sorry, Zara. There are laws in this country, and we’re subject to—”
Xin cleared her throat. “Technically, Danyael hasn’t broken any laws in this country. The Bahamas are not part of the United States.”
Zara grinned. “That’s a good point.”
Alex frowned at her. “Enforcing these laws, inside and outside of the United States, allows the Mutant Affairs Council to function domestically and internationally with the blessing and sanction of the United States government. The laws were put in place to ensure that mutants, especially alpha mutants, are not a threat to society. There are processes to be followed, and the first step would be to take Danyael into custody.”
“What will you do with him?” Zara asked.
“Follow the rest of the process. There will be an investigation, through which I’m sure he will be cleared of any wrongdoing.”
Miriya’s hands pounded on the table. “But in the meantime, he’ll be held at the mutant containment facility.”
“What?” Zara shot to her feet. “That’s crazy. You can’t lock him away. He’s done nothing wrong. He defended me.”
“We’re not locking him away, Zara. There will be an investigation, and I’m certain he will be freed.”
“But you’re going to dump him in hell while the slow wheels of the federal bureaucracy turn.”
“You have my assurance that I will do everything I can to expedite the investigation.”
“Not good enough,” Zara said. “I haven’t heard a single good thing about the mutant containment facilities.”
Her instinctive defense, so unexpected, warmed Danyael. Still, he held up a hand to halt Zara’s tirade before asking quietly, “If I turn myself in, will you help Lucien?”
“Yes,” Alex assured him.
Galahad spoke up for the first time. “There’s got to be another way that doesn’t require Danyael to barter his freedom for Lucien’s sanity.”
“There isn’t.”
“We’ll do our best to find one,” Zara said. She uncoiled and returned to her seat. “Several time
s now, Danyael has paid the price for others to get what they want. Lucien, if he were aware, would object. With all the money at his command, all the influence he and his parents possess, there’s got to be another way around this.”
“This has nothing to do with Lucien,” Alex cautioned. “Danyael, regardless of what happens to Lucien, you need to turn yourself in. Otherwise, we’d have to send teams out to locate you and bring you in.”
Danyael averted his gaze from the screen. He was almost certain that he could defeat teams of the council’s enforcers, but at what price?
Zara’s hand slid over his, her touch reassuring. “We’ll take it under advisement,” she told Alex coolly.
“You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“Oh, I think I do.” She smiled thinly.
“Miriya, you’re an enforcer with the council. Your loyalties—”
“Can be flexible when required.” The telepath shrugged. “I’ve been considering a job change recently.”
“Miriya—”
She stood and glared at Alex. “What you’re doing to Danyael stinks. He did what he had to do to keep us alive. He did the only thing he could do. And now you’re throwing him to the wolves. Why? Because it’s part of the rules? The same rules that allowed the most selfish humans I’ve ever met to tear memories from Danyael’s head?”
Danyael’s startled gaze flashed to Miriya.
Miriya did not seem to notice his reaction. She never took her eyes off Alex Saunders. “The rules suck.”
“The rules are there for a reason—to protect all mutants from being unjustly targeted.”
“So we sacrifice individuals for the greater good of society? Bullshit.”
Danyael placed his hand on Miriya’s arm. Her psychic shields provided no defense against direct contact from an alpha empath. The peace he channeled flooded over her rioting anger, extinguishing it. When he was certain she was calm, he spoke. “Alex, I need twenty-four hours.”
“Danyael, I can’t—”
“Alex, please. Twenty-four hours is all I’m asking for. I’ll turn myself in at the council headquarters when the time is up. You can trust me.”
