by Jade Kerrion
In spite of the urgency of the moment, he smiled, relaxing in the certainty of her love. Zara was the most stunning woman he knew—not because of her appearance, though she was beautiful, but because of her vitality, her energy, and her fierce determination to stake out her claim on life on her own terms. He had exhausted his strength; he needed hers to save Galahad.
Her energy flowed through him, blending with his. In his mind’s eye, he saw the renewed surge of psychic energy shift like a river of light. He needed that precious energy himself, but he had more or less reached the end of his road. Six to eight weeks. Five more minutes. What’s the difference?
Without hesitation, he drove his empathic powers into Galahad, channeling it through Galahad’s blood vessels until it reached his heart. Psychic energy pooled around the silent organ, like a reservoir building up around the heart. Danyael filled the psychic dam to the point of overflowing and ignited it. He threw his head back. The effort ripped a scream of raw anguish from his throat. The sound reverberated through the small room, and he crumpled beside Galahad’s body, his own body shuddering uncontrollably.
Next to him, Galahad stirred. His heartbeat flickered and then stabilized.
Zara turned Danyael over and eased him onto his back. “Danyael—”
He kept his eyes closed; it was easier to conceal the pain that way. His voice trembled. “I’ll be…all right.” Eventually. Give or take a year.
Except that he did not have a year.
A rumbling echo rolled through the laboratory. His eyes flashed open.
Zara glanced around sharply. She pressed a hand to her ear, as if listening to a microphone.
Danyael’s eyes narrowed. Was Zara communicating with Xin? More than likely; the clone was a useful person to have around whenever electronics were employed in security systems.
Zara’s face paled. “Gage overloaded the reactor that powers the laboratory. Xin’s going to try to shut it down remotely, but we have to get out of here.”
Danyael pushed up on one elbow, but collapsed when he tried to stand. His head spun. “I…I’ll need help.”
“I’ll get you and Joyce to the elevator, then come back for Amanda and Galahad.”
Danyael shook his head. How many trips could Zara possibly make? They were all out of time unless Galahad could carry his own weight.
Once more, he reached out to Galahad. He knew the risk he took. By giving Galahad the last of his strength, he would be too weak, too exhausted to protect Zara if Galahad turned against her.
And if I don’t, we all die. Including Zara.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Warmth enveloped him, a blanket of safety and security that kept the chill at bay. Galahad did not hear any voices in his mind but he felt Danyael’s presence nonetheless, the inimitable sense of calm equilibrium that always accompanied the alpha empath.
If there was anything that could faze Danyael, he had yet to find it.
A surge of urgency flooded the warmth, and with it, an infusion of strength and energy. He opened his eyes and the ceiling lights shifted sharply into focus. For a moment, his body felt unfamiliar, like a stiff, new glove, but his heart pounded, the beat steady and familiar in his chest.
Galahad inhaled deeply as he pushed to his feet. Three sets of eyes watched his progress. Joyce’s eyes were wide with awe. Zara’s eyes were narrow amethyst slits, and Danyael’s dark-eyed gaze was intent, his pale face drawn with exhaustion and wariness.
The alpha empath was bracing himself, Galahad realized, but what for?
Zara’s voice was brisk. “The lab’s going to blow. We have to get out of here. Amanda’s still alive, barely. She’s in Miriya’s room.” She hesitated. “I’m going for Amanda. Get Danyael and Joyce to the elevator.”
Trust. Her trust.
On the one hand, Zara’s decision seemed the only logical one. Danyael was in obviously bad shape and likely needed more physical support than Zara could easily provide. Still, he never imagined that Zara would ever trust him with Danyael’s life.
Danyael did not flinch or struggle when Galahad dragged him to his feet. Galahad could feel the alpha empath’s heart pounding in his chest, the beat erratic. Danyael bit down on his lip until it was bloody, but he said nothing.
Joyce, fortunately, appeared none the worse for her twenty-four-hour ordeal, and she only needed a steadying hand as they crossed the walkways and climbed up the stairs to the elevator room on the third floor.
Galahad lowered Danyael to the tiled floor with care. The elevator was waiting. Galahad’s eyes narrowed. Gage would almost certainly not have sent the elevator back down for them. Was Gage still in the laboratory? Why would he not have made good his escape?
Danyael must have picked up on his puzzlement. The alpha empath’s dark eyes opened, and he searched Galahad’s face. Alarm flickered across his face. “Zara—”
Galahad nodded. “I’m going back for her.”
~*~
Zara spotted Amanda through the open door of Miriya’s suite. The telepath lay unmoving on the thin carpet. From that distance, Zara did not see any obvious wounds, though psychic injury was invisible and often worse than physical injury. She ran into the room.
As she raced past the door, instinct rather than any warning signs threw her forward into a roll. A spray of shotgun pellets peppered her. Gasping, she dragged herself against the wall, her left arm pressed against her bleeding right bicep. Blood trickled from a deep cut on her forehead, and agony pulsed through her right hip where a pellet had pierced her flesh.
Gage chuckled, the sound low. “I’m disappointed. Danyael sent you instead of coming for Amanda himself.”
“If you’re planning to kill him, you need to get in line, and then you’ll have to get through me.”
“Doesn’t look that hard now, does it?” His smile was thin. “I misjudged him. I thought he could be convinced, but the problem with Danyael is his lack of respect for his own life. He’s put it on the line so many times that he doesn’t know what it is worth anymore. He values you, though I will never understand why.”
“I’m great in bed.” Faking weakness, she slumped lower. Her left hand slipped from her bicep. Her Glock was five inches away, tucked in the holster on her right hip. It might as well have been a mile away. Gage’s finger was on the trigger. He would blast a hole in her before she could pull off a single shot.
“He could have healed me.” Gage’s face twisted with bitterness. “All I want is to live.”
“The problem isn’t living. The issue is what you do with your life. I’m guessing Danyael didn’t approve.”
“Who is he to judge me?” Gage’s shoulders twitched. For a fraction of a second, his aim shifted off her.
She had to keep him talking. At some point, his aim would shift long enough for her to reach for her gun. “We’re human. We all judge. The only difference is that Danyael can actually follow through on his judgment.” Zara laughed, soft and low. “Still, I’ve never known anyone more willing to see the good in someone than Danyael. You must have seriously pissed him off. Who knew? Danyael’s compassion actually has limits.”
“You call this compassion?” The shotgun shifted again.
Zara slid her hand lower an inch and a half.
Gage’s bared his teeth in a gesture too ghastly to be called a grin. “My treatment of him will seem compassionate compared to what I’ll do to you. Your torture, your rape, your death will tear his heart out—”
Footsteps pounded along the external corridor.
Gage’s head snapped in the direction of the sound.
With her left hand, Zara pulled her Glock from its holster. Gage swung back around, his finger tightening on the trigger. Her face expressionless, Zara lunged sideways, dropping to the floor. She fired once before flinching from the spray of shotgun pellets into the wall above her head.
Gage screamed. The bullet had pierced the tender junction of where his neck met his shoulder.
Zara cursed silently.
That should have taken out his throat.
Galahad burst into the room. Gage turned the shotgun on Galahad, but Galahad ducked under the weapon. He came up in front of Gage. Galahad seized the barrel of the shotgun with his left hand, and slammed the heel of his hand into Gage’s jaw.
Disarmed, the older man reeled, stumbling out of the room. Galahad stalked after his clone. Galahad did not hesitate. He spun into a kick. It slammed into Gage’s midsection and hurled him off the external corridor.
Teeth gritted, Zara dragged herself upright.
Galahad ran to her side. “Can you walk?”
“Get Amanda.”
He lifted Amanda off the floor, slung her over a shoulder, and then wrapped an arm around Zara’s waist to support her. Together, the three of them made hasty progress from the room. Zara spared a glance down. Gage lay, either unconscious or dead, on the bridge traversing the central shaft on the lowest level. She hesitated but Galahad pulled her away, guiding her up to the elevator room.
When Joyce saw Zara, her eyes widened. “You’re hurt!”
“I’ll live.” Zara glanced at Danyael. He had lost consciousness. Finally. He couldn’t be heroic to the point of suicide when he was unconscious.
With Galahad’s help, the group piled into the elevator. The door slid close, and the elevator jolted to a start. Zara pressed a hand against her ear. “Xin?”
“Still working on shutting down the reactor.” The clone’s voice was calm, but Zara knew Xin well enough to hear the undercurrent of tension.
“How long before it blows?”
“Five minutes and thirty-two seconds.”
“It’s six minutes to the surface.”
“I know. Shut up and let me work.”
Dying in an elevator hadn’t been on her agenda for the day, but at least she was with Danyael. Zara drew him into her arms. His body burned with fever, but it meant that he was alive. He did not wake but as she held him, her pain seeped away. Though unconscious, he was attuned to her. Unconscious, he healed her, loved her.
Gage’s voice echoed through her mind. He values you, though I will never understand why.
Zara smiled. But I do. He knows I accept him and love him for the fool—and the marvel—he is.
She counted down the seconds. Right on time, a low rumble echoed from far beneath them. Her grip on Danyael tightened, and she exchanged a tense glance with Galahad.
Xin’s voice spoke into her ear. “You’re fifteen seconds from the surface. Get ready to run like hell when the elevator door opens.”
“Fifteen seconds,” she told Galahad and Joyce.
He nodded and knelt down to haul Danyael over his shoulders. Zara pushed to her feet but stumbled against the wall when the elevator jostled violently. She jerked away from the wall; it was hot to the touch. Five seconds.
She bent down and hooked her elbows around Amanda’s. When the elevator door opened, Galahad shot out like a flash, taking Danyael with him. Joyce and Zara followed, Zara dragging Amanda with her. Galahad returned moments later, threw Amanda over one shoulder, and yanked Zara out of the elevator.
Flames shot through the elevator shaft. The one-room building caught fire around them. Zara ducked to avoid the spray of glass. Splinters pierced her back but adrenaline kept her going. She raced out of the building behind Galahad.
“Get down!” Zara pulled Joyce into her arms and dropped to the ground.
The building exploded. Debris sprayed across the islet, narrowly missing the small huddle of people on the beach.
Zara cursed under her breath. Beneath her, Joyce curled into as small a space as possible.
Xin’s voice spoke in Zara’s ear. “Everyone all right?”
The assassin raised her head and looked around. “We’re still alive, but we need help. Amanda and Danyael are both unconscious.”
“Tseng and his SOF team are on the way. By the way, that is the second lab you’ve wrecked in less than twenty-four hours.”
“Circumstantial. Gage blew up the lab, not me.” Zara shook her head. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time—”
“You went in looking for a fight.”
Zara shrugged. “If you wanted a negotiation, you shouldn’t have sent an assassin to do the job.” With a graceful motion, she wiped blood and soot off her face, and then stared at her fingernails. “Damn it, I need a manicure.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Danyael awoke with a sharp jolt, sleep ripping from his mind. Alarmed, he pushed himself up on his elbows and scanned the room. The mattress was firm, the sheets were clean, and a white comforter draped over his naked body swaddled him in soft warmth. He relaxed when he recognized his surroundings. He was back at his hotel suite at the Marina Bay Sands Hotel. The IV drip next to the bed pumped fluids and liquid nutrients into his body, and his many superficial wounds had been cleaned and bandaged.
He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, and to be sure, checked the date as well.
“Forty-four hours,” Zara said from behind him.
He did not react in surprise. The psychic wall he had erected between them meant that she was the only person who could sneak up on him, and if there was anyone he trusted with his life, it was Zara.
“Jerry Drake, the doctor at the NSA local office, said to let you sleep for as long as you needed. He came by to administer several shots of painkillers to keep you comfortable. How do you feel?”
I’ve had better days. He dragged his hands through his hair and was surprised when his hand did not tremble. “I’ll be all right. What happened to you?”
“Bullets in my arm and hip, Drake dug the bullets out. The wounds are healing—” She shook her head when he held a hand out to her. “No, you’re not healing me.”
“You’ll scar unless I do.”
“I’ll live, and you shouldn’t exert yourself any more than is necessary.”
“Joyce?”
“She made it. We all did—Amanda and Galahad too.”
Thank God. “Chloe?”
“She never went down to the lab; I didn’t think you’d appreciate me dragging her into the chaos. She’s reluctantly back at work in New York City with a hell of a story she can never tell anyone. It’s probably driving her crazy right now.”
Danyael chuckled and relaxed into the bed. He looked up at Zara. “And Gage?” He paused, tilting his head to listen to the low murmur of voices outside the closed bedroom door. “Is that Alex…and Xin?”
She nodded. “They arrived yesterday to clean up the mess we made.”
“How big of a mess was it?”
“Gage destroyed a half-billion dollars worth of property.”
“He destroyed the lab? Is he dead?”
“That’s the part we’re not sure of. We can’t get anyone in there to check it out, but according to the final data transmissions from the lab, one of the personnel capsules jettisoned through an emergency escape shaft and out into the ocean. The Singaporean coast guards are trying to find the capsule but they haven’t had any luck so far.” She reached for the phone on the bedside table. “Should I order soup and sandwiches for you?”
He glanced at the door. “What are Alex and Xin arguing about?”
“Galahad. Alex took him into custody.”
“What? Why?”
Zara shrugged.
Danyael disconnected the IV system and pushed the covers aside. Zara tossed a change of clothes to him. Teeth gritted against the cramp in his left leg, he dressed and accepted the crutch that Zara held out.
His balance was uncertain, in large part because he had not regained his strength—what little he had left of it—but with Zara’s support, he hobbled into the living room.
Both Xin and Alex looked up at him. Xin’s mouth curved into an affectionate, gratified smile, but Alex’s gaze was serious and somber.
The director of the Mutant Affairs Council asked, “Shouldn’t you be resting, Danyael?”
“I’m fine.”
Alex shook his he
ad. “You’re a long way from fine.”
Danyael laughed softly. “I’m as fine as I’ll ever be, not that it matters much anymore. Why are you taking Galahad into custody?”
“He’s dangerous,” Alex said.
Xin cut in before Danyael could respond. Apparently, Alex and Xin had been at the argument for a while, likely rehashing old ground. Her voice pounded against his skull, her sentences turning into a jumble of words.
Danyael turned away to stare out of the window of his suite. His black eyes traced the outlines of the Helix Bridge. The sinuous curves that represented the double helix glowed blue in the darkness. Life always finds a way, even through the darkest night.
He rolled his neck and squared his shoulders against the tension clawing at his back. The raised voices—Alex Saunders’s smooth bass and Xin’s mellow alto—screeched like harpies, aggravating the migraine that pulsed through his skull.
“Enough!” Danyael’s empathic powers flashed, drenching the room with the emotional equivalent of cold water. He turned away from the window. His hand steadied on his crutch, and he limped forward. His gaze rested in turn on the three people gathered in the living room—Alex, Xin, and Zara. “Galahad is not a threat to anyone except me. It’s no reason to lock him away for the rest of his life.”
Alex’s brow furrowed. “But Danyael—”
“He has hated me for years, perhaps never as strongly as right now, but he has also passed up many opportunities to kill me. We need to start trusting the evidence that Galahad is mature enough to make good decisions.”
“He’s only been free for three years.”
“And look at what Gage accomplished in two and a half years. He advanced the frontier of genetic engineering and designed a successful prototype to convert energy from the Earth’s core. Two and a half years, that’s it. Imagine what Galahad could accomplish in two hundred.”
Alex sighed, shaking his head. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Danyael leaned forward, resting the palms of his hands on the table. “More than anyone, Galahad can change the world. We have to give him a chance.”
