Perfect Betrayal

by Jade Kerrion

  Zara's smile was warmly seductive as she patted Tim's cheek gently with the blade of her dagger. Even from a distance, Galahad could see Tim cringe. The surrounding streetlights flashed quicksilver against the blade as she drew it tenderly across his cheek. Blood welled up as steel parted skin. "Why is she carving her name on his cheek?" Galahad asked quietly.

  Miriya sighed. "Humans can be so childish." She raised her voice. "Zara, we need to get out of here before the local cops show up. We have federal authority, but explanations can take awhile. Are you finished?"

  "Almost. If you get in our way again, I will hunt you down and kill you. Understood?"

  Tim nodded, his eyes wide.

  Zara pushed to her feet and rejoined them.

  "Did you have fun?" Miriya asked.

  "Enough to forgive Danyael for subjecting us to a road trip," Zara said. She dug the car keys out of her pocket and pressed the remote to unlock the car.

  Miriya slid into the backseat of their SUV. "You've got a lot of balls making a enemy of an alpha telepath. You better learn how to create stronger psychic shields. I won't always be around to protect you."

  "I won't need your protection much longer. The members of the Mutant Assault Group are stupidly tenacious. He's going to follow us, and I'll have an excuse to kill him then."

  Miriya chuckled softly. "When have you ever needed an excuse?"

  "The timing wasn't right. I attacked him without provocation, which makes it hard to credibly say 'oops.' I need another opportunity to accidentally kill him. The administrative inquiries into the deaths of alpha mutants are tedious."

  "They're following their general's orders, Zara," Miriya reminded her.

  "Obedience is no excuse for stupidity, and ripping Danyael's memory in public qualifies as gross stupidity," Zara said. Surprisingly, her voice caught. "Tim deserves a Darwin Award for what he did, and I'm going to hand deliver it."

  Miriya leaned forward and jabbed her small fist into Galahad's shoulder. "Stop taking notes."

  "What?" Galahad asked.

  "Stop anchoring."

  "Anchoring?"

  "To Zara. If a creaky old humanities professor from a liberal arts college had rescued you from Pioneer Labs, you wouldn't be wondering if you were created to be the perfect killer."

  His mouth twitched. "So much for the privacy of my thoughts."

  Miriya did not bother to apologize. "You're like a duckling. You imprinted on the first non-lab person you saw, who turned out to be a mercenary for whom the line between life and death has been so badly scuffed over that it is, for all intents and purposes, nonexistent."

  "Perhaps, but a humanities professor wouldn't have helped me escape from Pioneer Labs."

  "That's probably true," Miriya conceded.

  "I find this conversation about me deeply fascinating," Zara said, her voice cool.

  Miriya arched an eyebrow. "What I find fascinating is how Danyael, who is trained in every possible way to save lives, could have fallen in love with someone so diametrically opposed to everything he believes in."

  Danyael loved Zara? Galahad glanced sharply at Zara, but her expression of perfect indifference gave nothing away.

  Miriya continued with a casualness that struck Galahad as out of place, considering the seriousness of the topic. "I know you accused Danyael of manipulating your feelings. I wonder if perhaps it was the other way around, and you manipulated his." There was a brief, tense silence before Miriya exploded. "You bitch!" She lunged and pulled viciously on Zara's dark hair.

  The SUV swerved erratically. "Get off me! And stay out of my head!" Zara said, regaining control of the vehicle and guiding it onto the shoulder. She cut the engine and turned around in her seat. "Whatever happened between Danyael and me stays between Danyael and me."

  "It's a game to you, isn't it?" Miriya said, her voice snapping with anger. "Show a little kindness. Make the affection-starved empath care for you. Makes him easier to manipulate and drag around the country to use as bait."

  "Bait for what?" Galahad asked quietly.

  "Bait for the authorities who were hunting for you," Miriya said. "You know, Zara, if you'd told Danyael the truth, he would have helped you anyway, but at least he'd have known better than to fall in love with you. Could have saved both of you a ton of trouble."

  "Stay out of my head."

  "Not a chance, now that I know for sure what a first-class bitch you are. I'd hate to be manipulated the way you manipulated Danyael."

  "You did it for me," Galahad said. It was not a question.

  "Yes," Zara said. No apologies. No explanations.

  He knew better than to expect them of her; they weren't her style. Yet, her terse answer reassured him. Danyael had not yet secured the assassin's loyalty or affection.

  Galahad placed his hand against her upper arm. His gentle, firm touch was a caress. "Was it worth it?" he asked. "Am I worth it?"

  To his surprise, she hesitated, longer than he would have liked. "After your birth, the International Genetics and Ethics Council banned recombinant DNA research on human beings. Your perfect DNA is priceless. There is no one like you, and there never will be."

  She had not answered the real question: in her eyes, was he worth more than Danyael? A week earlier, she had loathed Danyael, her sorrow over Carlos's death exacerbated by the repulsive effect of Danyael's psychic shields. But just then, her violet eyes were thoughtful, almost wistful. Galahad frowned. What had Danyael done to her in that one week? How had the alpha empath so quickly turned Zara's loathing to love?

  And did loyalty align with love? Galahad suspected that it did.

  He had to remind Zara that her loyalty was misplaced and her affection unrequited. His melodic tenor was pitched low, evoking the illusion of intimacy. "What about Danyael? He's given up everything to save Lucien."

  Zara tensed. The softly regretful gleam in her eyes vanished. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin as she stared out ahead of her, never taking her gaze off the road. "That's because he is nothing without Lucien. Danyael had years to make something of himself, but..." She released her breath in a soft sigh. "...he didn't."

  "He's had his chance."

  "Yes," Zara agreed. She did not hesitate.

  Galahad inhaled deeply. He looked out the window as Zara pulled onto the road. Behind them, Miriya brooded in silence.

  Turmoil churned the questions through his mind. Danyael had done so much for him. The alpha empath had paid dearly to help him flee the country, but Danyael was no longer necessary. Situations changed. The alpha empath stood in his way, the final obstacle, the only obstacle, to his time, his chance, his life. Galahad saw his ghostly reflection in the glass. Danyael's face stared back at him. How much would his freedom cost, and would anyone, other than Danyael, pay the price?

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The sunlight playing over closed eyelids lured Danyael from drug-induced sleep. His long eyelashes fluttered and lifted slowly. Dark eyes, dazed and disoriented, struggled to focus. With care, he sat up. His muscles ached, sore and tender from an uncomfortable night, as well as the aftereffects of the drug. His left leg felt stiff, the pain mercifully contained to a dull ache.

  The view outside the window transformed as highway conceded to urban streets. He crosschecked the time on his cell phone with the bus schedule. It was 7:30 in the morning. He was in Raleigh, North Carolina, an interminably long way from Boston.

  Traveling by bus had seemed like the only way to keep a low profile. To some extent, being in a crowd kept him safe. Still, he wondered if there were faster, safer ways to get to Boston. How could he maintain that pace, risking encounters with Zara and the assault group at every turn? What if he made a mistake? Lost control? Killed someone else deliberately, by accident, or by proxy?

  He sent a text message on his cell phone. Is Zara all right?

  Yes.

  He released the breath he had not even realized he had been holding. Thank God. The assault group?

&
nbsp; Still on your tail. Just slightly delayed by their run-in with the terrible trio.

  A faint smile curved Danyael's lips. The description of them was not too far off.

  Text flashed across the screen: Are you all right?

  He stared at cell phone. What could he say? There was only one answer that came naturally, but still, he hesitated. Moments passed in silence. His fingers moved slowly across the virtual keypad. I'll be all right.

  He let the words sit and allowed them to settle, before he finally hit the Send button.

  The bus pulled into the terminal. Danyael did not move from his seat as passengers filed off the bus. He weighed the need to clean his injuries relative to the twenty-five-minute layover and decided against it. He finished the last of the water from the bottle he had purchased in Orlando, relaxed in his seat, and closed his eyes.

  He sensed movement all around him, but nothing that triggered an empathic alarm. God, he was tired. He could stay hyper alert for only so long. He rubbed his temples as a headache throbbed. It escalated sharply to a migraine. Next to him, the seat shifted, sank as someone sat. "Hello, Miriya," he said quietly, without opening his eyes.

  "Blocking the frequency of my psychic hook works great in concept until I'm right next to you and the resonance triggers a migraine in both of us. You could stop blocking me, you know."

  He shook his head. "You can drop the hook, if you want the pain to stop."

  "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"

  Danyael opened his eyes slightly and flashed Miriya a humorless smile. "I can handle the pain. Can you?"

  "Women have a higher tolerance for pain."

  "In general, that's true, but I've had far more practice than you."

  "Don't make this difficult, Danyael."

  He sighed inaudibly.

  Miriya continued, "It's done. We've found you. Let's get off the bus."

  "Finding isn't keeping. I thought you knew that."

  "I can keep this bus from leaving." Miriya glanced at the bus driver.

  Danyael followed her gaze.

  The bus driver sat stiffly, his eyes glazed, his face expressionless.

  Danyael shrugged. "Only if you're conscious." He touched Miriya gently.

  Miriya's green eyes flared wide, then fluttered closed. Her body slumped in the seat.

  He sighed again. The mutant-equivalent of flexing muscles was pointless. The only benefit he could see was that with Miriya unconscious, his migraine had vanished too.

  In the front of the bus, the driver blinked hard. He shook his head sharply and started the engine as if nothing were amiss. The bus pulled out of the terminal.

  Danyael glanced out and saw Zara and Galahad running to their SUV. Having fun yet, guys?

  He adjusted the angle of Miriya's head so that she would not wake with a crick in her neck. An elderly man walking along the aisle smiled indulgently at them. With Miriya's head resting against his shoulder and a peaceful expression on her face, they jointly created the illusion of perfect companionship, Danyael reflected wryly. If only the humans knew better.

  Miriya did not stir for three hours. He knew the instant she regained consciousness. The migraine flared again. "Had a good nap?" Danyael asked tightly.

  "Great." Miriya rubbed her temples. She winced. "Can you do me a favor, please? Stop blocking me for a while?" She exhaled noisily, her shoulders sagging in relief. "Thanks. I really hate waking up with a headache. What exactly did you do to me?"

  "Transferred pain. Blasted you unconscious."

  Her voice quivered. "Why didn't you just do that to Jake? Why did you have to drop your inner shields?"

  He looked up sharply. "Jake Hansen?"

  "Yes. And Randy Russo too. You killed them both. Why?"

  "I..." his voice trailed into silence. Oh, God. His breath caught in horror. What had he done? He had killed the council's enforcers. "I...didn't know. Alex promised me twenty-four hours---"

  "You're lying," Miriya said flatly.

  Danyael shook his head desperately. He needed her to believe. He needed someone to believe him. "They attacked me. I never saw who they were."

  "And you didn't give a damn whom you might have killed?"

  "My shields were collapsing. I had to do something."

  "And 'kill' is your default response?"

  "The last time my shields were smashed, I lost two days of memories."

  "Not good enough, Danyael. Not even close."

  "I didn't know! Why did the council attack me without warning?"

  Miriya shook from anger. "You're lying."

  He took her hand in his. "Scan my memories," he said, deliberately opening his mind to her.

  He knew the risk he was taking. She could psi-blast him, and he would have no defenses against her. Miriya's mind brushed against his. She could have been gentle, but she was not. He arched his back in pain as talons raked through his mind. His fingers dug into the armrest, clenching hard. He bit back a curse.

  The pain vanished.

  He slumped in the seat, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. He buried his face in his trembling hands and dragged his psychic shields over his mind and emotions.

  "I'm so sorry," Miriya murmured. She sniffed back a tear.

  He was silent until he was certain he could keep his voice steady. "About Jake and Randy, I'm sorry."

  "I know," Miriya said. She hesitated briefly. "The council promised Galahad citizenship if we brought you in."

  "His freedom for mine?" Danyael asked bitterly.

  Miriya shook her head. "Alex said he wanted to get you off the streets before you made another mistake. The mutant containment facilities aren't great, but at least you'll get a private suite and three square meals a day. When you get to trial, the jury will find you innocent."

  "I won't be able to help Lucien if I'm locked up."

  "You may not be able to help him either way. Alex offered the council's assistance, but his parents turned Alex down."

  He averted his gaze. "I guess they don't want Lucien to stop hating me."

  "What will you do?" Miriya asked quietly.

  "I don't trust the council."

  "Considering the circumstances, I'm not surprised. First they abandoned you, and then they exacerbated your situation. I don't know how they could screw up more."

  "I'd rather not find out."

  "So what are you going to do?" she asked.

  "What I always intended. Find Andrea Hunter and ask her to help Lucien."

  "Galahad and Zara will stop you."

  "They can try."

  "You couldn't hurt Zara before. What makes you think you can do it now?"

  He did not answer.

  "She manipulated you, Danyael," Miriya said, her voice soft and insistent. "She knew you'd be a sucker for kindness."

  He had known, yet it hurt to hear it so bluntly said by someone else. "I know how she started out, but that's not where she ended up."

  "Danyael, you're fooling yourself if---"

  "Emotions don't lie, Miriya. I know what I felt from her at the end, but it doesn't matter. She couldn't reconcile what she felt with what she wanted to feel."

  Miriya's green eyes were shadowed. "She said you took her love away. But won't you always have what she felt for you in you?"

  "It helps balance out the emotions I absorbed from God knows who the other day." Danyael sighed quietly. "At least I don't feel like slitting my wrists anymore."

  "I'm sure she'll be glad to know it was good for something. Will she always hate you now?"

  "I don't know. I'm just an empath. I can change emotions, but not the reasons the emotions exist. If the love comes back..." He inhaled deeply. "If she loves me again in spite of herself and everything I've done to her, I may just have to marry her."

  Miriya chuckled softly without humor.

  Danyael glanced out a window as the bus pulled into the terminal at Richmond, Virginia. "Are they still following?"

  "Yes," Miriya said. "They're
right behind."

  "I'm not turning myself in without a fight."

  "People are going to get hurt."

  "If that's the way it has to be."

  "Look, it's just a few weeks in a mutant containment facility."

  He shook his head. "You say that as if it doesn't matter. The threat classification stays on my record forever, even if the charges are eventually dismissed. With a class-three threat record, my life will be constrained in unbearable ways. The jobs are little more than sanctioned slave labor. I won't be able buy a house or a car or use most forms of public transportation. If I step out of line just once, it's back to prison for life. Don't you understand? The life I wanted...the normal life...is gone. All I want is to use the freedom I have right now to do the one thing I need to do, and that is to convince Andrea to break the blocks in Lucien's mind. How can that be too much to ask?"

  She chewed on her lower lip and said nothing.

  He released his breath in a heavy sigh. "Are you going to fight alongside Zara and Galahad, or should we tackle our little bit here?"

  Miriya lurched to her feet, scrambling down the steps as the bus rolled to a stop.

  So much for winning her over, he thought bitterly as he rose, leaning heavily against the windows for support. His left leg felt stiff. The bandages were probably caked with dried blood. Deliberately, he focused on blocking Miriya's telepathic hook. A migraine pulsed through his skull with a vengeance. Let's see how well you concentrate through that.

  He glanced out the windows. Miriya ran over to a black SUV. Galahad and Zara stepped out to join her. Danyael inhaled deeply. He had no clear vision of what would happen in the next few minutes. They knew him---all his strengths, his weaknesses. If he had any advantage over them, it was not obvious, even to him. He knew only that he had to get out of the bus and take the fight outside to minimize the collateral damage.

  Danyael shrugged his backpack over his shoulders and stepped out of the bus. He braced to meet Zara and Galahad, but nothing prepared him for the blast of welcoming emotions. He glanced up sharply. "Erin?"

  "Hello, Danyael." The Irish beauty smiled, her warm charm packaged in fair skin, auburn hair, and green eyes. Her accent had a musical lilt. She took a single step forward. "You'll never make it to Boston, so I thought I'd bring Boston to you." She waved her hand at a couple standing slightly behind her.