Fallen Star

by Cyndi Friberg

  “Yes, Mother.” Sevrin was the only one who liked to drop by unannounced, so the promise should be easy to keep.

  “Do you know where they’re from? I’ve never heard an accent like theirs and their language is even stranger.”

  “Sevrin told me the name of the country, but it didn’t mean anything to me. I think it’s one of the countries that formed after the breakup of the Soviet Union.”

  “That makes sense. I can picture them working for the KGB.”

  Roxie laughed and shook her head. “Their grandfathers might have worked for the KGB. All of these guys are way too young to have had anything to do with the Cold War.”

  The front door opened again and Nazerel walked in followed by a man Roxie had never seen before. Usually the sight of Nazerel filled Roxie with a combination of trepidation and appreciation. The artist in her appreciated the savage beauty of his physical form while the woman in her retreated from the obvious brutality of his nature. Today, however, all she could think about was the disorientation and pain she’d endured in order to spy on a meeting that had never taken place.

  Sevrin had made it sound like the mysterious infuser would painlessly implant their language in Roxie’s mind and she would magically understand every word they spoke in her presence. Instead she’d been taken to an upscale hotel room where she’d been subjected to hours of mind-twisting…she couldn’t even define the sensations the infuser had triggered. Not so much physical pain as mental trauma, the infuser stretched and twisted her thinking in ways that felt unnatural and dangerous. When it was finally over, Roxie had been able to understand the other language, but her thoughts had been jumbled and sluggish for days.

  “Good afternoon,” Nazerel greeted in accented English.

  Roxie manufactured a smile. “I don’t have you on my schedule. Did I miss something?”

  He looked meaningfully at Tess and she offered him a nervous smile. “Mico has a four-hour appointment this afternoon. He’s otherwise occupied, so Flynn will take his place.”

  Sevrin’s boys never asked; they informed. Roxie acknowledged the statement with a stiff nod then motioned toward the back of the shop.

  Nazerel skirted the display case and headed for Roxie’s station with Flynn half a step behind. Roxie took a deep breath and cleared her mind of everything but what was going on in that moment. She had a new customer. That meant a consultation, putting him at ease and helping him express what he wanted. This was something she’d done hundreds of times before.

  She moved into the back of the shop and hooked her foot around the bottom rail of her wheeled stool. Drawing the stool closer to the dentist-style chair on which Flynn lounged, she sat. “So, what would you like and where would you like it?”

  Flynn glanced at Nazerel and muttered in their native language, “I’d like her naked and wet as she straddles my lap so I can bury my cock deep inside her.”

  “She’s off-limits and you know it.” Absolute finality snapped through Nazerel’s tone.

  Flynn shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I can’t imagine her right here, bouncing up and down.” He positioned his hands above his lap, fingers curved as if he grasped her hips.

  Roxi tensed and heat spread across her face, yet she tried hard to conceal her anger. She’d suspected they frequently made rude comments about her. Now she knew for sure. “If you’re going to tell secrets, I’ll come back.”

  “Sit on my face and you can come right now.” Flynn continued his offensive behavior.

  “Flynn speaks no English.” Nazerel’s dark gaze gleamed and one corner of his mouth lifted into a secretive smile. “He was explaining what he wanted from you.”

  His second statement was certainly true, but she seriously doubted the first. “Will you please translate so we can get started. I have another appointment after this.”

  “Cancel it.” Nazerel crossed behind Flynn and stalked toward her. “Serving us is your top priority.”

  Her independent heart rebelled against his words, but technically he was right. She had basically indentured herself to Sevrin for the foreseeable future.

  “She should offer me her mouth while you pound her from behind.” Laughter made Flynn’s chest rumble. “Or better yet, I’ll shove it down her throat while you pound into her behind.”

  Roxie fisted her hands, squeezing until her nails bit into her palms. If Flynn didn’t shut the hell up, there was no way she’d maintain her cool. She stood so fast her stool flew into the privacy curtain. “I forgot my water bottle.”

  Nazerel caught her upper arm as she tried to brush past him. “Why are you angry?” His gaze drilled into hers. His long fingers easily prevented her retreat, yet the force stopped just short of pain.

  “I’m not a fool.” She met his stare with calm annoyance. “I don’t need to understand his words to read his expression. He’s being crude and I don’t like it.”

  After acknowledging her complaint with a single nod, he looked at Flynn and switched to their language. “Enough. It’s not wise to upset a woman then give her a sharp object to use on you.”

  Flynn chuckled, but his demeanor changed, becoming more respectful. “Tell her I’m sorry, even though I’m not. If she were willing, I would—”

  “She’s not, so your desires are irrelevant.” Nazerel turned back to her and switched back to English. “Flynn apologizes for his rudeness. He finds your beauty distracting, but that is no excuse for his behavior.”

  She eased her arm out of Nazerel’s grasp and retrieved her stool from the curtain. Then she grabbed her sketch pad off a nearby counter and returned to her seat. “What sort of tattoo would Flynn like?”

  The specificity in the question made Nazerel smile. “He would like a sleeve similar to the one you did for Micorian.”

  “Micorian?” What an odd name.

  “Sorry. Mico. We have been encouraged to shorten our names so they sound more American. I find myself resisting the concept.”

  “Is that why you’re Nazerel rather than Naz?”

  “Exactly.” His smile was almost playful. On the rare occasions when he wasn’t scowling, he actually had a certain charm.

  “Speaking of Mico, he skipped his last appointment as well. Do you know when he’ll return so I can finish his sleeve?”

  “Recent developments are keeping my men busier than usual.”

  “Your men?” She allowed a touch of challenge to shape her words. “I thought you guys work for Sevrin.”

  “The others work for me. I work for Sevrin. And you were hired for your talent not your curiosity.”

  The leer returned to Flynn’s gaze. “Maybe if we indulge her curiosity, Sevrin will let us take her with us.”

  Nazerel shot him a warning glare. “You aren’t supposed to understand English.”

  “She has no idea what I’m saying.”

  Take her with them? Where were they going? And how long before they left? She wasn’t even sure if this was good news or bad.

  Despite the questions spinning through her head, she opened her sketch pad and drew the outline of an arm, then continued as if they hadn’t spoken. “Mico’s sleeve is pretty abstract. Random images surrounded by a tribal influenced background. Is that what Flynn has in mind?”

  “Actually there was one particular image he wants to build upon,” Nazerel told her.

  “Which one?”

  “Near Mico’s shoulder there was a section that looked as if his arm was mechanized.”

  She nodded. Peel-backs were a favorite of hers. “Is there anything else he’d like included?”

  “No. He wants his entire arm to appear mechanized.”

  That was completely different than what she’d done for Mico, but she wasn’t about to argue. “What you’ve described looks best in black and gray. Make sure he isn’t expecting color.”

  Nazerel muttered something she didn’t catch and Flynn chuckled. Then Nazerel looked at her and said, “Black and gray is fine with Flynn.”

  “It’ll take me awhile
to complete the sketch. Do you want to come back or wait around?”

  “We’ll wait,” Nazerel decided without asking Flynn.

  Wonderful. She sketched faster and better when she wasn’t being watched, but this wasn’t really about Flynn’s tattoo. This was an opportunity to gather information and Sevrin expected her to take full advantage of it. “At least have a seat,” she motioned toward the chair against the wall. “You’re making me nervous looming over me like that.”

  He strolled around the client chair, his gaze lingering on her. She waited until he sat in the chair she’d indicated before she started drawing. The sketch pad was rigid enough to allow her to work on her lap. Still, she would have been much more comfortable at her desk. She tilted her head, causing her hair to swish forward. It wasn’t exactly privacy, but it was better than nothing.

  “So where did Sevrin take you the other day?” Flynn asked a few minutes later. It hadn’t taken him long to forget she was there. Of course, they would only speak freely as long as they thought she couldn’t understand them, so she kept her pencil moving and her head down.

  “She had a meeting with a former colleague and she wasn’t sure what to expect.”

  “She has guards to protect her. Why take you?” Suspicion or maybe envy sharpened Flynn’s tone. That was interesting. Were the soldier bees fighting over their queen?

  “Who knows why that bitch does anything?” Nazerel crossed his legs at the ankle, taking up most of the limited floor space. He was built like a linebacker and had the predatory stare of a career criminal. He never failed to unnerve her. “She said let’s go, so I went.”

  “What did she want from her ‘former colleague’?”

  Tension rippled through the room and Roxie risked a glance at Nazerel. He was glaring at Flynn. “Why all the questions? Did she tell you to test me?”

  Flynn laughed. “This planet is making everyone paranoid. I’m just making conversation.”

  This planet? A shiver dropped down her spine. Not this country or this place. This planet. Maybe it was just a glitch in her language transfusion. Words could have multiple meanings. She bowed her head again, hiding behind her hair.

  “Every time I think I’ve untangled Sevrin’s motivation, I discover a new lie.” Nazerel sounded frustrated now. “She’d have us believe she’s the selfless champion of our brotherhood. In reality we’re simply a vehicle on which she’s moving her ambitions forward. We’re useful to her. If that changes, she won’t hesitate to kill us all.”

  Roxie lifted her pencil. Her hand was trembling so badly she couldn’t even pretend to draw. Nazerel’s words sounded more than familiar. She’d come to exactly the same conclusion about herself. She was safe as long as she remained useful, which meant she had no choice but to betray Nazerel. Unless… Could they help each other evade the danger? Was she safer with Sevrin or her boys?

  “If we became more proactive,” Flynn emphasized the word, making it sound threatening. “How long do you think it would take her uncle to realize she was gone?”

  Her uncle? Damn it. Why hadn’t he used a name? Even with a language barrier to protect them, these men were frustratingly careful.

  “Her uncle is the least of our concerns. Without her contacts, we’re at the mercy of humans. We’ve learned a lot since our arrival, but I still like my chances better with Sevrin. We just need to figure out a way to control her.”

  Unable to conceal her emotions any longer, Roxie pushed to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” Nazerel stood as well.

  She blew out a calming breath then looked into his eyes. “I need a potty break. Too much coffee this morning.”

  His eyes narrowed to glistening slits. “Very well.”

  Had he just granted her permission to pee? Seriously? Rather than play into his surliness, she smiled. “Thank you, kind sir. I’ll return momentarily.”

  He returned to his chair and she made a beeline for the bathroom. She flipped on the light and locked herself inside the tiny room. This “planet” was making them paranoid and Nazerel didn’t want to be “at the mercy of humans”. The implication was obvious, so why wouldn’t her mind accept what had been revealed? They couldn’t be aliens. This was an elaborate hoax set up for their amusement.

  But the language infuser had been real. In the span of a few hours, she had learned a foreign language. No, in the span of a few hours, she had learned an alien language.

  Her ears began to ring and the frantic beating of her heart made it hard to breathe. She moved to the sink and splashed water on her face, not caring if it ruined her makeup. What should she do now? What could she do? It wouldn’t take Sevrin long to learn about this visit. The woman seemed to know everything that took place moments after it happened. She’d appear at Roxie’s front door and demand a full accounting.

  So what did she really know? Nazerel didn’t trust Sevrin, didn’t feel safe around her. Sevrin obviously knew that much already or she wouldn’t have recruited Roxie to spy on him. He hadn’t revealed any secret plans, at least he hadn’t yet. Complete denial was pointless, but could she twist the truth just enough to protect Nazerel from Sevrin’s wrath? Roxie shook her head. It was hard to imagine Nazerel needing protection from anyone.

  Someone knocked on the door, so Roxie turned off the water.

  “You all right in there?” Tess called.

  Relieved to hear a familiar voice, Roxie smoothed her hair back from her face and sighed. “I’m fine. Almost done.” She reached over and flushed the toilet, still feeling shaky and unsure.

  The worst part was she couldn’t confide in anyone without endangering them. She’d never felt so isolated or vulnerable.

  One step at a time. That was the only strategy that made sense. She’d get through this session with Nazerel and Flynn, then deal with Sevrin. Roxie wasn’t sure what she’d say. She’d keep it vague yet truthful and hope that Sevrin would be pleased enough to give Roxie more time.

  * * * * *

  “That was excellent.” Odintar watched Jillian closely, unsure how to interpret the ripples of emotion surging across their psychic link. Her stance was solid, her expression calm, yet spikes of random emotions kept stabbing into his mind. “I think we’ve accomplished enough for one day. Why don’t you take a bath?”

  She bent her head and playfully sniffed her armpit. “Am I that ripe?”

  “Not at all. I only thought it would help you relax before you go to bed.”

  Desire swelled then receded as quickly as it had formed. She was still fighting her emotions. She would never experience the full strength of her power until she learned to let go. Still, he’d pushed her hard today, expecting more than he would have from an ordinary apprentice. But then there was nothing ordinary about Jillian. She was the most fascinating combination of strength and vulnerability. Her potential seemed nearly limitless, yet she had serious obstacles to overcome if she hoped to tap that potential.

  “A bath sounds nice.” Her gaze lingered for another moment before she turned and headed off down the hall.

  It was for the best. Spending the night in her bed was more than tempting. He’d fought his need to touch her all day. She must trust her emotions, learn to use them as fuel for her abilities. Lust was a powerful emotion. If he aroused her, he could teach her how to… It was an excuse. His desire for her had nothing to do with training and he wasn’t willing to blur the lines.

  After indulging in a frustrated sigh, he went to the kitchen and opened the pantry door. The back wall of the small walk-in pantry slid to the right, revealing another door. He triggered the door with a facial scan, then descended the simple wooden stairs.

  The basement was stark and utilitarian, windowless walls and exposed support beams. He glanced at the detention cells. Without the containment field active, they looked like concrete cubicles. In the back corner of the basement nestled the control hub. Not only could Elias, or whichever of his men was on duty, observe every room in the saf
e house, they could contact the Bunker and access the program’s expansive database. A row of bulletproof windows kept the room from feeling claustrophobic.

  Elias noticed his approach and waved him in. The door hummed then popped and Odintar pulled it open. “Why aren’t you climbing the walls? You’ve been down here for hours.”

  “I’ve had plenty to keep me busy.” He gestured toward the multi-screen display that spread the length of his workstation. Three of the six screens featured interior views of the safe house, while the other three displayed search engine results and various forms of data. Elias turned his chair around without standing up. “In fact, if you hadn’t come down here, I was about to go get you.”

  Odintar had spent more time with Morgan than Elias. But Morgan trusted her lieutenant implicitly, so Odintar was willing to give him a chance. “What’s up?”

  “We have a lead that we need explored and Jillian is uniquely qualified to do the exploring.”

  Odintar crossed his arms over his chest, immediately leery. Jillian had barely begun to test her limits and utilize her gifts. She was weeks, perhaps months away from a field test. “Explain.”

  “We have substantiated reports that various Shadow Assassins are visiting a tattoo shop called Unique Ink. We’d hoped to follow one of them back to their team house, but they always walk a few blocks from the shop and then teleport to God knows where.”

  “And how can Jillian help?”

  “The owner,” he glanced at one of the screens, “Roxie Latimer, is trying to hire a receptionist, someone to greet customers and answer the phone. We wouldn’t have to invent a backstory for Jillian. She’s lived here for years and has verifiable references.”

  Odintar nodded with reluctant understanding. “And she has a reason for seeking another line of work.”

  “All she’d have to do is limp or maybe go back into the brace for a bit.”

  “What about her double?”

  Elias shrugged. “This is the perfect opportunity for her to retire. There’s a coffee shop three doors down from Unique Ink. The double could drive Jillian’s car to the tattoo shop then decide she needs a cup of coffee. We’ll have Jillian waiting in the coffee shop and the double can sneak out through the back. We’ll drive the double home and the real Jillian can return to her old life, more or less.”