by Jade Kerrion
“So you took Danyael home with you that day?”
“No, that came later. Over the next few weeks, I made several visits to the orphanage to check on Danyael. I don’t think the abuse stopped, but at least it was no longer blatant, especially not when I visited. He was still as thin as a rake. I couldn’t get him to eat or play, but we’d spend hours sitting next to each other, saying nothing.”
“Not really an auspicious start to a friendship.”
“The auspicious start came about a month after I first saw Danyael. I was walking back to the car after visiting him when one of my bodyguards pulled out a gun, shot my other bodyguard point blank, and killed him.”
Miriya sat upright. “What?”
“An attempted kidnapping. Someone—we never found out who—paid him a lot of money to snatch me. Another car pulled up, and he tried to drag me to it. I fought him but would have lost if Danyael hadn’t come running. He threw himself between my bodyguard and me. The first thing I ever heard him say was, ‘Luce, run!’” Lucien’s expression was contemplative. “I ran back to the orphanage; I heard two gunshots and the sound of a car racing away. My bodyguard had shot Danyael. It wasn’t bad; it went right through his shoulder.”
“And the second gunshot?”
“My bodyguard blew his own brains out.”
Miriya nodded slowly. “Danyael’s first kill.”
“That’s right. I thought my bodyguard had killed himself to avoid arrest when the kidnapping went awry. At that time, I don’t think Danyael knew what he was doing either. No one even suspected that he might have been a mutant.”
“What happened then?”
“I thought Danyael was going to die. There was so much blood everywhere. He looked up at me, his eyes huge and dark in his face, and said, ‘Glad you’re all right, Luce.’”
“You took him home after that.” It was not a question.
“He would have died to save me. Of course I took him home.” Lucien chuckled, a sad sound. “I wasn’t just idle rich. I was also lonely. I could never figure out if my friends liked me, or if they just liked my money. With Danyael, I never wondered; I always knew.”
Miriya wondered if Lucien could hear the respect in his own voice. The memories of their early friendship seemed untainted by the mental block. If anything could anchor Lucien, it would be his life-changing encounter with Danyael. “So, when did Danyael become Danyael?”
Lucien chuckled softly. “His name at the orphanage was John Doe. He was fished out of a river at the age of two and a half, remember? No one managed to track down his family, so an indifferent government official called him John Doe.”
“So why did he change his name to Danyael Sabre?”
“It was my bodyguard’s name.”
Miriya’s jaw dropped. “The one who tried to kidnap you?”
“It is fairly apt. Danyael killed him and took both his name and his place beside me.”
“Morbid, more like. Did you ever ask Danyael why he did that?”
“No, of course not. Maybe you should.”
~*~
Danyael’s busy schedule had left him with little time for Reyes or Amanda. He met them for dinner, but Amanda’s presence precluded a private conversation with Reyes. After dinner, Amanda accompanied Danyael back to his suite, as she did on most nights. They made love, tenderly, and then fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Danyael. Miriya’s voice in his head jerked him out of sound sleep.
Turning slowly, Danyael shifted to lie on his back, which ached, as did his left leg from a difficult physical therapy session. Beside him, Amanda slept soundly. He glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. It was just after midnight. You’re up late. What is it?
I just wanted to check in on you, see how you’re doing.
I’ve been busy.
Hah. You’ve been blocking me. Does your reluctance to talk to me have anything to do with Sakti’s attack on Pelican Bay State Prison?
Damn it, Miriya.
Ah, so you have figured out the truth. You don’t seem bothered by the connection between Sakti and the assault group.
Danyael released his breath in a sigh. Should I be?
Uh, a general in the U.S. military is conspiring with a terrorist group—
Alex Saunders sent me to a super maximum-security prison without trial and would have left me there to die. Sakti, and the general, freed me. I don’t see a problem.
Miriya was briefly silent. Okay, she said finally.
Why was she conceding so easily? Danyael covered his eyes and shook his head. Why was the world determined not to make any sense?
Miriya changed the topic abruptly. Can I ask you a question?
Depends on the question.
Why did you choose your name?
Danyael froze. His breath caught in his throat as a cold hand seemed to clench around his heart. You spoke to Lucien.
Yup.
Danyael hesitated before asking, How is he?
He’s fine. He hasn’t had much luck finding an alpha telepath willing to take on the risk of breaking the mental block in his head. Fortunately for him, my sense of caution isn’t particularly well developed. Anyone stupid enough to hold on to a psychic hook in the mind of an alpha empath through a year at ADX is probably stupid enough to tackle—
Shock fizzled through Danyael. Are you—
Going to take a running charge at the mental block and hope it comes down.
Does Lucien know?
Miriya snorted. Of course, he knows. Do you really think I’m that reckless? I wouldn’t take on this risk if he weren’t entirely behind it as well.
Danyael clenched his teeth. But you could damage his mind permanently.
I’ll be sure to get him to sign a waiver, just in case.
This isn’t a joke.
No, of course it isn’t, Lucien wants me to try. I intend to succeed. That’s why I talked to him. I needed to find a memory of you that he could anchor to when his world comes tumbling down.
Did you find it?
I think so. The part of the memory I don’t understand is why you decided to take the name of the bodyguard who tried to kidnap Lucien.
Because Danyael Sabre sounds cooler than John Doe?
You do know that you killed him, don’t you?
Not at that time, but later, yes.
Miriya made a gagging sound. That’s bloody morbid.
Lucien didn’t tell you the full story.
What’s the full story?
Danyael was Lucien’s surrogate father for more than a decade. Damien Winter did not have much time for his son, so Danyael filled the gap. He taught Lucien how to ride a bicycle, sail a yacht, and drive a car. He taught Lucien how to hunt, swim, and ski. When Danyael turned on Lucien, he shattered Lucien’s faith in friends and people. I took Danyael’s name to salvage his memory, to be to Lucien everything that Danyael had once been to him.
Lucien…never said that.
Danyael sighed, a quiet sound. We never talk about that day. He never talks about the original Danyael either.
Why?
Lucien lost a great deal that day. The memory is still painful.
Miriya snorted. It sure didn’t seem painful to me when he was telling the story. He glossed right over the bodyguard part. He spoke only of you.
Sometimes people avoid speaking of things they feel deeply about.
And sometimes people don’t bother speaking of things they care nothing for.
Danyael shook his head. We won’t ever agree on that point.
We better come to agreement on at least one thing. Do you think that memory will be strong enough to anchor Lucien when I start taking his mind apart?
Did he? Danyael slowly dragged himself to a sitting position. His back muscles clenched in protest, but he swallowed the low grunt of pain. He buried his face in his hands, pressing icy fingertips against his forehead. He weighed the potential pleasure of their restored friendship against the terrible risk Luc
ien would have to take. I think so. The emotions associated with that particular memory, whether positive or negative, are strong.
That’s good enough for me.
His mental voice remained steady in spite of his racing nerves. When…are you going to try?
Got to work up the guts for it. Probably within a week or so. You’ll be the first to know when I do. If all goes well, and it should, you’ll hear directly from Lucien.
Words could not express the depth of his gratitude. Thank you.
Hey, happy to do my part here. It’s going to be all right, Danyael, I promise. I’m going to make everything all right.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Several days, made long with training and physical therapy, passed without incident. With effort, Danyael set Miriya out of his mind. Her promise was too precious, the hope it embodied too fragile, to withstand close scrutiny. Instead, he focused on his work with the super soldiers.
That work brought him to the general’s office at the end of the day. Danyael set his crutch aside as he sat in the chair across from the general’s desk. The general’s office was expansive, but it was the room of a working man. A nest of electronics and technology dominated the far wall, and the conference table in the center of the room hosted long rolls of blueprints and stacks of paper files. The general had been raised in an age before technology became ubiquitous. What Danyael and others of his generation accepted as the only way of doing things was, for the general, just one of many options, one of many possible paths.
Was the general old fashioned or merely more flexible?
“A drink for you?” the general asked, opening the mini-fridge tucked into a corner of the room.
Danyael shook his head.
The general carried a can of Coca-Cola back to his desk and snapped the tab off the lid. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“The session today.”
“We’ve already discussed it at the arena. Your session with the soldiers was superb, Danyael. You’re overreacting to unfounded fears.”
Danyael shook his head sharply. “I’m not, General. The arena imposes artificial constraints, specifically space. It limits the distance beyond which the fight cannot take place. In the real world, I wouldn’t have the range to control the soldiers. All it would take is one mistake, and the soldiers could run amok.”
“Your control over them is impressive, even stunning. Professor Sadgati will be amazed to hear of the progress you’ve made. When she returns to the country, I’m sure she’d want to—” A sharp rap on the door interrupted him. The general looked up. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Reyes peered in.
Danyael picked up on the guilt and fear weaving through Reyes, sharp enough, pungent enough to leak past Reyes’s formidable psychic shields. Danyael pushed to his feet and limped to his friend’s side. He grasped Reyes’s arm gently, channeling peace. “What’s wrong?”
Reyes sighed quietly, the tension easing out of his body. “Thanks, Danyael.” His gaze shifted to the general, and he grimaced. “Thomas says he needs to meet with me.”
The general’s emotions flared with alarm. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous.”
The old man lowered himself into a chair. His eyes were troubled, but his jaw was set. “He insists. He wouldn’t if it weren’t critical. I have to talk to him.”
“It could be a trap.”
Reyes snorted. “Why would anyone try to trap me? I’m just an old man, a pacifist who has lost his relevance.”
The general shook his head. “We can’t securely transfer him in here to talk to you. One leak and the military police would be swarming all over us.” He glanced meaningfully at Danyael. “We cannot afford that.”
“Fine, then I’ll just head out to talk to him. If you can provide me with transportation and perhaps an escort—”
Danyael felt the general’s emotions flash a refusal. Before the general could speak, Danyael interjected, “I’ll go with you, Reyes.”
The general shot upright in his seat. “Danyael—”
Reyes smiled. He patted Danyael’s hand. “Thank you, Danyael. I appreciate it. I do.” He then looked at the general, his chin slightly raised, the unspoken challenge issued.
The general swore aloud. His nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, staring Reyes down.
The old man remained unfazed.
The general scowled. “Fine. Team six will go with you. When does Thomas want to meet you?”
“Tonight,” Reyes said.
“What? No, not tonight. Tell Thomas you need a day or two. The team will need more time to prepare contingency plans.”
“Contingency plans for what? This is a conversation, not a fight. Thomas’s not going to hurt me. Besides, Danyael will be there, and your team has other alphas, right?”
“Sakti has alphas, too,” the general pointed out.
“We’re not going there to fight,” Reyes said.
“You should be prepared for one, regardless. Team six and seven will accompany you.”
Danyael nodded. “Thank you, General.”
“I’ll tell them that you’re in charge, Danyael. You need experience leading more than just the super soldiers, and I don’t want confusion in the chain of command. The team leaders have good instincts, though; I trust you’ll take their advice.”
Danyael accompanied Reyes from the general’s office. Out in the corridor, he paused. “Reyes, is Thomas with Sakti?”
“Yes, and now that the general has what he wants—you—he’s probably going to disavow all association with Sakti. Can’t say I blame him. Sakti’s success has made Thomas brash. That kind of arrogance could get him killed.”
“Why would he want to meet you?”
Reyes shrugged. “I don’t know, but I am obligated to meet with him.”
“Because of Elysium’s former association with Sakti?”
Reyes smiled sadly. In that moment, he looked old and tired. “In part, but mostly because he’s my son.”
“But you told me once that you didn’t have family, that your wife and son were dead.”
Reyes met Danyael’s gaze. “It’s a long story. There’s a lot you don’t know about me. I’ve lived a long life. I’ve believed lots of things I no longer believe in; I’ve done lots of things I’m no longer proud of. Most of all, I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”
Danyael’s smile was wry. “I think I dragged you into this. If the general hadn’t been so determined to get me out of ADX, you’d still be running Elysium, and Sakti would still be hosting ineffectual protests in front of government buildings instead of breaking into them.”
Reyes laughed softly. “You are a catalyst, no question about it, but I made my own decisions.”
“What time is the meeting with Thomas?”
“Nine tonight at Sugarloaf Mountain.” Reyes dug into his pockets and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here are the coordinates.”
Danyael glanced briefly at the numbers on the paper. “I know where Sugarloaf is. It’s at least an hour and a half from here, which doesn’t give us much time. I’ll talk to the teams. Be ready to leave at seven. I’ll send one of the teams ahead to secure the meeting area.”
“You’re not expecting a fight or a trap, are you?”
“No, but as the general says, we should be prepared for one, regardless.”
~*~
The moon was a sickly sliver, its light wan. Danyael cast a quick glance around his surroundings, wishing he could see more than a dark blur of bushes set against gray trees. He wished his empathic senses were stronger and traveled farther. Mostly though, he wondered how he, a doctor, had landed up commanding two elite military teams.
A young soldier glanced over his shoulder at Danyael. “The meeting point is about a hundred feet down this way. You doing all right, sir?” He reached out to steady Danyael and then recalled the other soldiers who were pushing on ahead. “Hey, guys, come back here. We need to stamp down the undergrowth a bit mor
e. It’s hard for Danyael to get through on his crutch.”
The team made quick work of the tangle of roots and leaves that caught at Danyael’s crutch. “Thanks, guys,” he said, moving with greater ease if not speed.
The soldier grinned. “No problem, sir. It’s our job to keep you safe from bad people and nasty weeds.”
Danyael chuckled, glancing at the soldier’s name on his uniform. Anderson. “Any word from the other team?”
“They’re in place. The area is secure. They say Thomas’s arrived and is waiting in his SUV.”
“Did he bring Sakti with him?”
“Yes, but the people he brought are mostly our folks. We’re covered on that front; there won’t be any problems. You know, you could get real-time updates if you’d relax your psychic shields enough to let the telepaths communicate directly with you.”
“No, thanks. I’ve already got too many voices in my head.” Besides, he had to protect Miriya.
Anderson laughed. He glanced back over his shoulder at Reyes. “You okay, sir?”
“I’m fine.” Reyes waved him on. The older man was breathing heavily. “These old legs just don’t keep up the way they used to.” He squinted. “Is that the car over there?”
“Yes, sir.”
Reyes nodded. “You stay back, Danyael, and keep your hood up. Kieran may trust everyone in his team, but I’m not sure I trust Sakti.” Reyes pushed on ahead, flanked on either side by soldiers.
The door of the SUV opened and a young man stepped out. Danyael could see the stamp of Reyes’s features in the man’s face, too rough hewn to be considered handsome, but it was a strong face, nonetheless, dominated by a square jaw. Danyael reached out with his empathic senses, probing for deceit or any hint of a trap. He found none, but Thomas’s emotional imprint mirrored Reyes’s with uncanny accuracy. Danyael touched Anderson’s arm lightly. He kept his voice low. “Tell the teams to stay alert. Something’s not quite right.”
“Yes, sir.”
Two others stepped out of the vehicle, one male, the other female, their faces cast in shadow. Danyael looked up sharply. His eyes were wide, unseeing, as an achingly familiar emotional imprint sent a surge of bittersweet sensations flooding through him. “Pull back. It’s a trap.”
