Trevyn stripped off his uniform and boots and collapsed onto the bunk that filled one wall of his cabin. But sleep did not come. As he stared at the gray metal of the ship’s bulkhead above him, he saw only the agonized faces of the men Kinnian had tortured that day. His mind flinched away from the thought of that expression on the sweet face of the woman they were hunting, of her screams echoing through the corridors of the ship as Kinnian found his uses for her.
Trevyn fell back on the Discipline of the Adepts, stilling his thudding heart, slowing his ragged breath as he fought to calm his mind. When his conscious thoughts were as smooth and placid as a mountain lake, he sank below the glassy surface and rode the currents of his mind’s deeper patterns. He checked the traps and detours he had constructed to divert Kinnian’s intrusions and reinforced them where necessary. Then, recognizing that his bloodthirsty sibling was still occupied with his human victim, Trevyn took a chance. He reached out across the tenuous link he maintained with Gabriel—
--and was swept up in a swirling storm of emotion: a physical desire so intense he was instantly hard and throbbing; a primal possessiveness that rose in a growl from his chest; a corresponding need to protect what was his, to enfold her in his arms and never let her go. He was swamped with sensation—warm, smooth skin, a scent like ginger cream, her taste on his tongue, her slick, hot hold on him, the sound of her voice in his ear, urging him on. Oh, gods, this was paradise! Gabriel was lost and Trevyn was lost along with him, wanting her, needing her, giving her everything he had to give just to hear her call his name as she fell apart in his arms.
She shattered, crying out as she arched beneath him, and Gabriel’s shields collapsed. Their minds merged, while Trevyn watched in shock through the link he shared with Gabriel. It was all he could do to hold himself above the bond that was forming between the two of them. He struggled to maintain his own separate identity against the vortex of sexual intensity building between them. Lana—her name was Lana—was feeding off Gabriel’s energy, even as he was feeding off of hers, coming again and again until Gabriel finally found his own release with a shout of joy.
When it was over Trevyn lay gasping, aching despite the ribbons of pearly seed glistening across the hard planes of his belly. And despite all his discipline, he could not keep himself from imagining that Lana might turn to him and part her sweet lips to accept his offering.
Hours later, making certain it was still safe, Trevyn tested his link with Gabriel again. He skirted Gabriel’s volatile emotions with a delicate touch, avoiding the sexual pull between his brother and his lover. He hadn’t meant to be part of what had happened between the two of them. It had been a riptide he’d found impossible to escape. He’d been carried along with it until he’d washed up on a lonely shore, battered and barely able to breathe. Once he recovered enough to return to this point of origin, he probed, fearful of what he might find.
And there they were—the first few adhesions of a permanent bond between Gabriel and Lana. They were as fragile as a morning’s stillness, no more substantial than moonlight and shadow, but they had sprung into existence almost from the moment Gabriel had dropped his shields and let Lana in. Somehow Trevyn had sensed it, even then.
Gods help them all. Lana was an extraordinary woman, strong and brave and, by T’mara, so beautiful! She may even have had some latent psi talents of her own. But she was untrained, and because of the depth of emotion between them, she had opened a gap in Gabriel’s defenses, a gap Kinnian would be certain to find and exploit.
Behind a wall of shielding, Trevyn dared to share his fears with Gabriel.
The answer came back, as hot as the blast of wind off a desert: Stay away from her. I will protect what is mine.
The bedside clock read 3:47 a.m., a time of night reserved for revelry, skullduggery, lovemaking or deep REM sleep. But Gabriel Cruz was involved in none of these. In the darkest hour of the night, he was involved in guilt, self-recrimination and an examination of the behavior that had cost him the affection and respect of Alana Matheson.
Every time he awakened with a jolt to remember why he was sleeping alone, his chest burned with remorse and his breath refused to fill his lungs. Dios! He’d been so thoughtless and stupid, and now he had no chance of ever explaining the things Lana would be picking out of her mind about him. He had exposed himself in the worst possible way—to an agent of the government, no less—and unless she dismissed him as insane, there was no way to cover it up again.
Of course, that was only part of the problem, the part he needed to explain to, say, Sam and Rayna, who as representatives of Rescue, could have him up on interference charges if they weren’t also his friends. Like anyone working for that organization, Gabriel had a responsibility to keep the denizens of Earth ignorant of their place in the crowded little galaxy. They thought it was empty, except for themselves, and everyone else out there wanted them to continue to think so. One look at what she had learned from him and Lana would know better.
The bigger problem, by far, was that Gabriel ached with the thought of never being allowed to touch Lana again, of never having another chance to share her beautiful mind and sweetly responsive body. He had wanted her again as soon as he had left her, and it was a craving that was so much more than the need to bury himself in her over and over until he couldn’t move. Being with her made him lose all control, not only over his body and his mind, but also over his emotions. That had never happened to him in all the years of his life.
He had always kept himself in reserve, his shields solidly in place, no matter what the provocation. He’d shared the beds of dozens of women, many of them human, many more of them not. He’d felt them give themselves to him in pleasure, in need, sometimes even in love; he’d heard them moan and scream as he took them over the edge. But nothing—nothing—compared to the feeling that had come over him when he heard Lana call his name in the throes of her passion. And nothing had ever felt like the conjoining of souls he’d experienced when they merged, body and mind. It was as if he’d been compelled by some primitive force he could not deny. To be with her. To be as one with her.
That same force compelled him to protect her as an animal would a mate. And as much as it angered him, Trevyn had been right to warn him. Kinnian would exploit his weakness. It was bad enough that he had brought Lana into any kind of proximity with his sibling. Only Kinnian’s distracted rage at losing Asia and Jack had kept him from detecting Gabriel’s presence at the safe house. But if by opening himself to her he had led Kinnian to Lana—Gabriel couldn’t tolerate that thought. She would be a lamb to the slaughter, vulnerable, without any defense at all. That he would never allow. He scanned his mind’s shields and made certain Lana’s referents were well encircled. Kinnian might get through to him, but never to her.
Gabriel exhaled in frustration and punched at the pillow, determined to make the lumpy thing yield another hour or two of sleep. But it was not to be. An alert pinged on the comm unit beside the bed, demanding attention. He reached for it and spoke.
“Sam?”
“I’m sorry, amigo.” His friend’s voice rasped in his ear, the lateness of the hour affecting him as well. “I have something on that little task you assigned me.”
Gabriel sat up and switched on the light. “Yes?” He padded over to the larger compscreen on the desk and powered up, knowing he’d need the maps and sensor data it contained.
“We have a black, 2008 GMC panel truck leaving the house a couple of hours before you got there. We’re tracking it now. It was the only vehicle in or out that day. I’m sending the data to your personal comp.”
“Good. Where is it now?”
“Stopped outside of Sallisaw, Oklahoma. They’ve been there for an hour, not sure why. Maybe just a break.”
“Probably think they’re home free by now. But where the hell are they headed?”
“They have to be taking Asia and Jack to some kind of research facility. We’ve been watching a number of places out west for years.”
&nbs
p; “You’re guessing, Sam.”
“No. We’ve ID’d a couple of the kidnappers. They’re connected with a black ops group out of Groom Lake, Nevada. Seventy percent certainty that’s their destination.”
“You’re monitoring that location?”
“Of course. Nothing yet. What about your girl? She and her crew been any help?”
He gritted his teeth. “Think that one’s just about played out.”
There was a pause on the end of the line. “Too bad. Seemed like a promising partnership.”
Was that a hint of teasing in Sam’s voice? If so, he was likely to be talking around a split lip next time Gabriel saw him.
“Seems like you need to mind your own fucking business, Murphy.”
Sam laughed. “Whoa, there, vaquero! I’m not trying to get up in your business. But if you need a little advice in the relationship department—”
“I don’t. What can you tell me about Kinnian? Any sign he’s on to the truck?”
“No sign of a tail, sensor or otherwise.” Sam was businesslike again. “The Bloodstalker’s in outlying orbit; we’re busy playing hide and seek amongst the weather satellites.”
Gabriel grunted. “I guess it keeps the shavetails awake.”
“Yeah, but we’ll need an upgrade in the stealth shielding before too long. The Earthers will be on to us next time we try to do this.”
As Earth’s protectors, Rescue risked exposure with every operation. Gabriel found he needed the reminder. It was too easy to think of the planet’s citizens as a collection of backward dolts. As this endless shipwreck of a day had proved, they were quite capable of outmaneuvering him without benefit of technology or enhanced psi talents.
He changed the subject. “Hey. How’s Ethan holding up?”
“This is wearing on him, no lie. We haven’t heard anything from the little guy since yesterday afternoon.”
Gabriel’s head snapped up. “Not since they left the safe house.”
“No.”
“Thanks, Sam. I’ll talk to you soon.”
He got up from the bed and crossed the room to the sink in three quick strides. He splashed water on his face, dismissed any thought of shaving and conceded precious seconds to brushing his teeth. Then he turned to the tasks of dressing and packing with focused haste. The vehicle carrying Asia and Jack hadn’t speeded up between one part of his conversation with Sam and the next. Gabriel wasn’t any further behind his quarry now than he’d been when Sam first called. But just knowing Ethan was no longer in touch with his son sent a spike of fear through him.
His mind offered him any number of reasons for the boy’s silence—drugs , injury, death—but he shut down the useless cycle of speculation. He told himself he’d have time enough to figure out what had happened once he’d caught up to that truck. Right now, he had a more immediate problem.
He paused with his hand poised over the flat steel of the door to Lana’s room. She’d told him to get out not less than four hours ago. It was still an unreasonable hour of the morning. He wouldn’t blame her if she opened the door just to slap his face. If she opened it at all. He took a breath and knocked.
No answer.
He knocked louder.
A muffled “What the fuck?” from inside her room. Then, “‘Get out’ meant ‘stay out’, too, asshole.”
Her voice sounded strained and hoarse, filtered by more than just the locked door and the blanket of night between them.
“Alana, open up. I have news about the case.”
“I’m off the fucking case, Gabriel. Call the Bureau.”
“Come on, Lana. This is important. Let me talk to you.”
After a long, silent moment, he heard the bolt slide back, and the door swung open. Lana stood on the other side of the door in a tee-shirt and knit shorts, the bed where they’d made love still in rumpled disarray behind her. He couldn’t help noticing the second of the two double beds was also unmade. She’d slept in that one, he deduced, the thought causing him pain.
His gaze moved to her face, and he tried to breathe. Slow. Deep. She’d been crying. She met his eyes with stubborn defiance, refusing his sympathy.
“What the hell is so important that you have to wake me up in the middle of the night?”
She’d stepped aside just enough for him to come in, so he did. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, trying to focus on what had brought him here.
“I got a call from Sam. I’d asked him to look at some satellite data to try and identify whether there’d been any traffic in and out of the safe house before we got there yesterday. He picked up just one vehicle—a black GMC truck. It left the house a few hours before we got there yesterday afternoon. He’s tracked it to Oklahoma. They’re still heading west, Lana.”
She regarded him, hands on hips, eyelids dropped down over her sharp, green gaze. “You’re sure about this?”
“One hundred percent. It was the only vehicle in or out yesterday.”
“Of course, that’s provided we’re certain about the fact that Jack and Asia were there in the first place.”
Gabriel swallowed. There was a way she could be as certain as he was about all of this. She had only to open herself to what she had seen in his mind and she would know what he knew. She had obviously refused to do that yet. She had closed it all off, built a wall around it. That wouldn’t work for long, he knew.
“Lana, you know they were there,” he said at last. “The van was in the garage.”
She exhaled. “Okay. And this truck was the only thing in or out?”
“Since we got the tip on where they were located, yes.”
Lana began to pace in the confined space between the bed and the dresser, her hands running through her blond curls. “Sam’s tracking them by satellite?”
“Yes. He has them in Oklahoma right now.”
She stopped to consider him. “Jesus, where the hell do you people get access to all this high- tech shit?”
Gabriel was silent. She had the answer to that question if she would just look for it.
She shook her head and resumed her pacing. “You know I’m PNG back at my office right now, right?”
“PNG?”
“Persona non grata. A.K.A. She Who Walks in Deep Shit. I got a special phone call from my boss after midnight last night informing me that I’ve been removed from this case forthwith. I’ve been assigned desk duty for the foreseeable future, pending reassignment—probably to the Bear’s Breath, Alaska, sub-office.”
Despite her prickly aspect, it was all Gabriel could do to resist reaching out to her. “I’m sorry, Lana.”
“For what?” She glared at him. “I may blame you for a lot of shit, Cruz, but I only have myself to blame for getting thrown off this case.”
“The safehouse . . .”
She blew out a breath, impatient with him. “They’ve been one step ahead of us the whole way, Gabriel. I’ve been over this and over it. We’ve beaten the percentages by a lot so far—thanks mostly to you.”
He searched her face for any signs of sarcasm, but it was clear she meant what she said. Maybe it pained her to admit the man who’d hurt her personally had been useful to her professionally, but it struck him she’d spent a lot of years keeping her professional life separate from her personal life. He’d been relegated to “strictly business,” which at least allowed him access. For some reason, this realization only intensified the urge to touch her, so much so that he took half a step in her direction.
She appeared not to notice—and she refused to meet his eyes. “Still, my boss doesn’t see things quite the same way. All he sees is that this case is a gigantic fuckup. And I’m not sure he’s going to want to hear anything new from me.”
Gabriel shrugged. “Do you have a choice?”
At last she looked up at him. “No. I don’t guess I do.”
Trin, Center for Administrative Control, Consortium of Minertsa, Sector 10
The Ministerial Council was in an uproar.
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sp; The Oligarchy had called a rare face-to-face meeting of the nine Directors who managed the vast bureaucracy of the Consortium. Though no one could deny the circumstances were unusual, even dramatic, the Directors would have avoided any meeting if they could. Meetings in general meant inefficiency, lost profit and, most of all, the chance that something would be said that would affect one’s status within the hierarchy. This situation in particular was fraught with danger for all involved.
And yet, Sennik looked forward to the meeting with calm. No—with relish. After all, his actions had precipitated the crisis that had brought them all together, though, of course, none of the others knew it. Now, if he simply sat back and let his fellow directors do what they each did best, his goals would be accomplished without further effort on his own part.
Silence reigned in the room as the Chief Oligarch rose to address his administration. My friends. I bring you here today on a matter of grave importance to the Consortium, but also, as some of you may know, a matter of great personal sorrow to me. In the early segment of this solar cycle on Minertsa, at a time cloaked in darkness on the planet of Zalin where the tragic events took place, a number of brave Minertsans were brutally murdered, their human slaves were slaughtered like herdfish, and an entire manufacturing facility was laid waste. These horrific acts of savagery were the work of a small cadre of malfunctioning androids.
Though most of the ministers in attendance had heard this much of the story, there was a gasp of horror from all of the throats in the room. The mere framing of the tale was enough to chill everyone with its implications. Sennik gasped along with everyone else and made an effort not to smirk.
Forty androids were awaiting shipment to their place of assignment, a mining colony in Sector 14, and according to reports, “went berserk,” refusing to respond to commands, killing and destroying everything in their paths. The death toll at last count included 167 Minertsan workers, 544 human slaves and the founder and chief of research of Labor Futures, Limited, High Lord Vadis and his family. Lord Vadis was a close friend, and I shall miss him.
Trouble In Mind (Interstellar Rescue Series Book 2) Page 18
