Trevyn, if you still live, please help me. Find Lana. For God’s sake, help her before it’s too late.
Trevyn went still, the desperation of his sibling’s call pouring into him like ice water through a hole in his skull. The force of it shook him, wrenching his attention from the other battles he’d been directing, unseen and only subtly felt. He’d whipped in and out of dozens of fights, distracting, disabling, altering the field of battle to change the outcome to favor the inexperienced Navajos. His own men were dying because of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He had left it to Gabriel to protect Lana, but no one could hold out against Kinnian for long. He’d known it had to come to this. Trevyn wasted no time in conversation with Gabriel. He reached out across the link to Kinnian’s mind . . .
. . . his cock ached to fuck her. Her legs were spread beneath him, she was ready, ready! He could feel her hot and wet at his tip, and he pushed. She gritted her teeth and twisted away, denying him entrance. He could force himself inside, but that wasn’t the plan. Oh, no! Her mind would yield first. He picked his way through her outer defenses, tossing away the fractured pieces of her shielding as if they were eggshells. She screamed, resisting him.
He saw that there were more guarded areas of her mind, secrets protected, elements of her personality jealously hoarded. He would have those, too, soon. For now, he only wanted the open treasure house of her pleasure. He thrust at the primitive parts of her brain that governed her sexual response. She gasped, and her body arched upward, nearly taking him in. He laughed. I told you, my little dragon’s cunt. He stroked at the sensitive synapses again. She came, convulsing under him with unbearable need. Now beg me . . .
“Kinnian!”
Trevyn ran across the echoing chamber to grasp his brother by the shoulder and turn him into his punch. Kinnian rolled off Lana’s shuddering body and came up growling. Trevyn gave him no time to recover, manifesting a six-foot ironwood staff bound with metal at both ends and using it to break Kinnian’s right elbow before he could bring up a sword to attack.
Howling, Kinnian counterattacked. White-hot energy shot from his left hand, his right hanging useless at his side. Trevyn threw up a quick shield, then hit his sibling with a blast of his own. Kinnian rolled out of the way, but Trevyn followed and struck him in the ribs and the knee with the staff.
“You traitorous pig! Killing you won’t be enough!” He threw three more blasts in Trevyn’s direction, staggering him. “If you were brave enough to fight with a sword, you’d be dead already.” He manifested a sword in his left hand and charged.
Trevyn sidestepped and clipped him in the back of the head, splitting open his skull. Kinnian dropped like a butchered psoros.
The third son of Kylan of Thrane stood and watched the life’s blood drain out of his brother into the stone of an unfeeling planet. Then he bent to the unconscious body of the woman he loved, a woman who was bonded to his oldest brother. Her bondmate might not survive this day to do what was necessary now. It fell to him to enter Lana’s mind one more time, to undertake yet another violation to preserve her sanity. With a touch as light as a nightbird’s wing, he spread healing balm over the raw wounds Kinnian had left behind. Lana would remember—to attempt to erase the memories would only cause violent whiplash later—but from an emotional distance that would make it easier to bear. It would be as if she’d already had years to heal.
When it was done, Trevyn picked her up and left that place of horror, praying her bondmate was still alive to appreciate what he’d done.
Trin, Minertsa, Sector 10
It was time. Ardis watched her compscreen as Sennik called up his program and initiated the proper sequences. The display showed the minister’s actions, shadowed by the codes she and the human scientist Blake had injected to bend the program to their bidding. She didn’t bother to shield or alter her shining aura. Sennik was in his office, deep in his task. He wouldn’t know or care how she felt. Until it was too late.
The commands scrolled down, one by one. The stealth codes followed in their wake. The computers aboard the ship circling high above her planet acknowledged receipt. The countdown began. Ardis waited, her breath shallow and fast.
A few segments later the data began flooding in. Accounts were being depleted. Secure files were being opened and shared. Secrets were being revealed. Startled inquiries were already flowing between government offices. The Consortium was being shaken to its foundations. But not as Sennik had planned. No. Not at all according to Sennik’s plan.
Ardis felt the scream deep in her mind. Serene, she rose and went into the office of the Director Prime.
He was manipulating data on several computer screens, all to no avail, his aura a horrid dark yellow-green. It’s some sort of mrill-fucked comp attack! My personal accounts, my files, everything! I’ve been posted to public nets; smeared all over every active government screen!
--Chaos serves your purposes, does it not, sir?
Sennik stopped his frantic motion and stared at her. What do you mean?
--Did you not plan to coordinate similar attacks on others with the device you purchased from Xe? She waved an elegant hand at his master screen. The targets have been changed. And I regret the sabotage orders have been deleted from your program.
His aura exploded with bright red rage. You! He leapt up and started in her direction, then stopped, frozen, unable to move a single muscle not connected to his autonomic nervous system. Lime-colored terror swirled through the crimson of his anger. What are you doing to me?
--I am controlling you, as you so often controlled me.
She could sense the rise in his pulse, his blood pressure, his respiration—all signs of his struggle to gain release from her will. She had hidden her skills so well, for so long, even she hadn’t been certain her mind was truly stronger. Now she felt her confidence swell.
--You can’t. Let me go!
--They will be coming for you soon, Ren. They’ll want an explanation for all of this—the plan, the chaos, the deaths and destruction on Zalin. They’ll say they want the details, but they already have all that. Everything is in your open files. What they really want is justice. But that I will have already taken for myself. And for Slindar.
His aura flared. I am a hero because of what happened on Zalin. Zalin was proof that this Consortium needs what only I know how to provide.
--You are a fool! Her aura burned hot with the silver and gold of her impending triumph. You provide misery and slow decline. Your time is coming to an end. I only wish Slindar had been here to see it.
--Slindar! And who is he?
Her chin lifted. He was my mate. The only man I ever loved. And it’s for his sake that you will do this last thing—his and the many humans you’ve killed.
Ardis stepped to the antique glass case and chose a serpentine jade kris, a blade more than two thousand circuits old. She turned and pressed it into Sennik’s limp hand, ordering him to hold it.
He stared at it in horror. Then he watched it, eyes widening, as it rose and moved closer to his throat. Ilia, no! You can’t mean to do this! Please . . .
Whatever else he might have said was lost as the blade slipped into the sphenis artery at the side of the throat. The blade, still sharp after so many circuits, severed the artery with one stroke, cutting off blood to the brain. Sennik fell, the blade still in his hand, his dark green blood spurting in powerful gouts over the floor. He was dead long before the blood stopped flowing.
When Ardis was certain of that fact, she turned and left the building, well ahead of the government officials and military police she knew to be on their way. By an indirect and complicated route she arrived at Slip 298B of the commercial section of Minertsa’s secondary spacedock within approximately one segment. There was a pad beside the hatch closing off the floating catwalk to the ship. She keyed in the code she’d been given.
The face that appeared on the screen in response was a surprise. “Ardis? You made it!”
The human—her friend—smiled. “Wow, things are really popping, thanks to you! Hang on. I’ll be down to get you.”
She had been sad and frightened to leave her home, though the humans had said they’d find a place for her. Now, she realized, her feelings had changed.
Her aura flushed bright with joyous pink, shot through with a hint of deep, midnight blue.
In the mindfield, no physical coordinates
The beast was enraged, insane with pain and frustration. Gabriel watched as it whirled in a storm of dust and thunder, snapping its jaws at the bolts of sizzling light splashing against its flanks. The VRadkrystion was surrounded, crowded by tall, pointed fortifications and beset by attacks from all sides, and yet the thing would not give up. The beast threw itself against the breastworks time and again, injuring the humans behind them, but doing little to damage itself. It may have been confused, but it was far from dead.
Ethan shouted at him over the din. “This isn’t working.”
The beast rushed the fortifications at the far side of their circle. Gabriel heard the screams of more of their people. People would be killed soon, if they hadn’t been already.
“I have to get closer. It’s the only way.”
Geneva Twohawks stared up at him. “We were not able to heal you properly. You are slow. The World Eater is fast. Not a good plan.”
Gabriel barked out a laugh. “True. Do you have a better one?”
Her eyes slid to the boy who was throwing energy bursts through a hole in the defenses with Leonard Begay.
Ethan took a step forward, his jaw clenched.
The old woman shook her head.
Gabriel wished it were otherwise, but he couldn’t seem to find a way to tap the boy’s power. He’d had no training—and Gabriel had had no time to teach him. Jack could throw energy with the best of them, but the VRadkrystion ignored his hits like all the others.
Long ago, his teacher had told him the little he knew about the VRadkrystion: First, never fight it. Second, if you must fight it, try not to die. Third, the beast has only one true vulnerable area, on the inside of the back thighs—good luck reaching it.
He sent out the order to all the others to keep the beast’s attention to the far side of the circle. The blasts intensified, infuriating the monster, leading it to charge against the barricades within a small arc furthest from Gabriel’s position.
Gabriel slipped out from behind the defenses he’d struggled so hard to reach and slid down the slope of the embankment. He circled behind the beast, skimming the shadows at the foot of the palisade where he had a chance of cover in case the monster turned.
The others knew his intentions. When they saw he was ready to make his move they redoubled their efforts to distract the beast with a barrage of energy bolts and a hail of conjured rock and fire. The thing responded with a sky-splitting roar and hurled itself at the wall in front of it.
Gabriel tore across the open circle toward the maddened beast, his focus on the massive tree-trunk-sized hind legs. The monster was standing, pushing at the palisade. The people behind the wall were screaming, some of them trapped beneath the splintering logs. Gabriel was closer . . . closer . . . there! He came around the side of the beast and reached out, hitting the thing square between the legs with a crackling bolt of actinic light from his fingertips.
The VRadkrystion bellowed and keened—then pivoted to come down on all four legs in the midst of the destruction it had caused. It screamed and stomped, turning to find its tormentor—and Gabriel could not move fast enough. He backed up, fell, clambered over the debris just ahead of the beast’s marauding feet. He rolled and cursed himself—Get up, you bastard, get up! GET UP AND RUN!
But the monster had seen him now, and its hunting cry went up. It turned toward him, and the sound of its jaws snapping was the sound of death. Gabriel thought of Lana as he stared up at dripping fangs. I’m sorry, k’taama.
Then there was a sound like the high-pitched whine of a hundred engine thrusters, and a flash of blue-white light so bright Gabriel’s vision blanked. Heat seared his skin, followed by a bone-deep concussion and a blast of wind-driven sand.
Gagging on a renewed stench of burning flesh and fur, Gabriel rolled to his hands and knees. He blinked hard to try and clear his vision, because it seemed there was no shadow of a beast hovering over him. That’s when he heard it:
Laughter. Cheering. A six-year-old’s excited voice rising above the crowd.
He staggered to his feet and saw people emerging from behind crumbling barricades, embracing each other, dancing with joy. Some of them were headed in his direction, for which he was grateful; he could use the help. Finally, at the top of the tallest palisade, he saw Jack Roberts, slayer of monsters, arms raised in triumph. For the first time since he’d met the boy, maybe for the first time ever, Jack was smiling.
Of the VRadkrystion, he could see nothing left at all.
Moonlight pooled in liquid silver at the base of the bluff and spread like the widening ripples from a dropped stone until it hit her legs. Lana sat with her back against a crumbling wall and stared, trying hard to make sense of the objects bathed in the pale light. Adobe walls, missing their doors and windows. Fallen rocks. Her bare feet, her naked legs.
There were few sounds to go with the sights. Only her breathing. And his.
She scrambled to a crouch, her heart pounding, seeing him at last. “Who are you?”
He stood and backed away from her, his hands held away from his body. “I won’t hurt you, Alana.”
She stood, ready to run. Then she looked down, horrified. Her body was as naked as her legs. She shut her eyes and manifested a tee-shirt and jeans. A pair of shoes.
“Sonofabitch!”
“I’m sorry! I just had time to move you here. I didn’t think about the clothing.”
She advanced on him. He stood his ground. In the moonlight she couldn’t see much of him, only that he was tall and well built, with a strong, clean-shaven jaw. He wore a uniform like that asshole Kinnian’s, though, and that was reason enough to want to kill him. She manifested a sword and swung for his head. He brought up a metal-braced staff to block it.
“Stop! I’m here to help you!”
“Like I believe that.” She thrust the sword at his gut. He sidestepped and rapped her wrist. She dropped the sword with a curse and fell to her knees.
He held the staff in a loose grip, watching her. “Before you attack again, take a moment to search your memories. My name is Trevyn. I am your bondmate’s younger sibling—and ally. I found you with Kinnian. I killed him. Do you remember now?”
Flashes of memory showed her scenes of horror. Kinnian looming over her, poised to destroy her, ripping away at her mind. The way she had responded to him . . . bile rose into her throat.
“No, Lana.” There was sympathy in Trevyn’s quiet voice. Understanding. “You had no more control over your reaction than you had over your heartbeat or the blink of your eyes. You denied him access to your deepest self—that is what is truly important.”
She looked up at him and even in the moonlight she could see Gabriel in him. She struggled to speak, in the end finding only two words in the tangle of her conflicting emotions.
“Thank you.”
He said nothing in response, and for a long, silent moment he simply watched her, his gaze hungry and desolate. It was as if he conducted some debate deep inside himself as he stood over her.
Lana recognized the danger she was in and gathered her feet under her. “Why did you bring me here, Trevyn?”
Trevyn shook his head. “I brought you here to keep you safe. Come. Gabriel must need our help by now.” He held out a hand.
She reached out to take his hand, but before she could stand, a shadow bloomed behind him, and a bright gleam of metal pierced the center of his chest. His breath left him—a sigh of shock and despair
—and he slumped to his side.
Lana grasped at Trevyn’s falling staff as she rolled to her feet. A voice and a form came at her out of the moonlight.
“You humans have a saying: ‘quid pro quo.’ Though I believe in this case I have done my brother one better.”
Lana didn’t wait for Kinnian to make his move. She struck at him with the heavy staff, aiming for the hand that held the sword, for his elbows, his knees. He was slower than he had been, the effect of the blow to his head that was still not fully healed; still he parried every blow and watched for the opportunity to disarm her. She was sweating with fear and effort, while he easily countered her, move after move. Frustrated, she gathered her energy and cast it at him in a blue-white arc. He cursed and fell back, almost dropping the sword. She followed up with a flurry of blows that got inside his parries, banging at his elbows and ribs.
“Enough!” He exploded with a concussion that flattened her against the side of a ruined pueblo. He started forward, his grin white against his face in the night. “Now you’re mine.”
Just as quickly there was movement and someone blocking his path. “No. She’s not.”
Gabriel!
His arm swung, metal flashed and there was a sound like an ax biting through soft pine. Kinnian’s head left his shoulders and flew several meters into a pile of rubble, leaving his body to drop like an empty bag.
Gabriel turned and fell to his knees in front of her. He threw away the sword so he could catch her as she launched herself into his arms. She spent a long, blissful moment feeling his arms around her, his heartbeat under her ear, his reality. She was aware of him in her mind, gently probing. She resisted showing him the worst of it.
He hurt you. Anger and guilt burned in his mind.
It was a fight, like yours with the VRadkrystion. You were wounded, too. We’ll both recover.
I should have been there. Let me help you.
Trouble In Mind (Interstellar Rescue Series Book 2) Page 34
