by Laney Kaye
Could still smell them, though.
The guard pretty much ducked behind his desk as I entered. Not sure whether he was the same one from a couple of days earlier, or if he’d been warned about me, I strode toward the lift.
His voice quavered after me. “Uh, I don’t think Commander Smithton is in. If-if that’s where you’re going,” he added, as I whirled to face him.
Three strides took me across the foyer, and I slammed my palms on the mirror-like surface of the high counter he sat behind. “You don’t think? Then, where is he?”
The man quivered, staring at his vidcom instead of looking at me. “I have him marked as leaving two hours ago, but he hasn’t returned. I’m not-not privy to where he went.”
I glared at him. Then I leant over the counter, inhaling deeply, allowing the tips of my fangs to show. It was easy to scent deliberate dishonesty on Glians, a rank odor of fear and greed. This one smelled only of slightly rancid armatote stew. Well, that, and fear.
I spun, crossed the room and punched open the exterior door. Stood in the street and inhaled.
No Smithton. Odd.
Turning, I tried every direction, but couldn’t locate him.
The resigned despair on the guard’s face as I stormed back in might’ve been funny at any other time. “Give me your vidcom,” I ordered.
He passed it over immediately, and I dialed through to the com unit I’d left Leo poring over. As Leo’s image cleared on the screen, I spoke quickly. “Get Khal to the gate, see if the C.O.’s out on patrol. I can’t locate him. And have Jag take a sniff around the compound.”
“The C.O. go beyond the fence without us as his bodyguards? Unlikely.” Leo snorted. “I’ll get on it.”
I handed the screen back to the guard, noting his look of relief. No need for me to be an ass, the guy probably had a family to feed and didn’t need to be paying for a smashed com unit. “I’ll be upstairs waiting for the C.O. Do me a solid, and don’t warn him, okay?” It didn’t really matter to me whether he alerted Smithton or not, I’d still have it out with the C.O. In fact, having him run could make it more fun.
“Buzz me when my guys call in on your vidcom. You’ll recognize them easy enough. Felidaekin.” I bared my teeth. Yeah, I wasn’t gonna be an ass, but I did need to keep him in line.
I took the lift up. This damn place was a pimp palace. I hadn’t fully taken in the surrounds the last two times I was here, my mind focused on Maya.
Maya. I wanted to get back to her, to apologize for blowing up, but I needed to sort Smithton first. The knowledge that he was stealing time I should’ve spent with my woman ate into me. I had to get this shit sorted and make time for the third bond. Assuming she wanted it to happen. Gods, I hoped she did, because I couldn’t see how in the hells I’d ever walk away from her.
First, though, I needed to ascertain what danger my guys were in, and make sure it wouldn’t extend to her. Whether she chose the third bond or not, I’d protect her.
I shouldered open Smithton’s locked door and prowled across the room.
Dozens of versions of me stalked alongside, courtesy of the mirrors spaced between each of the heavily framed images hung on his walls. How could the man stand to see so much of himself?
I made my way to his desk, dropped into the high-backed chair, and started to rifle through his drawers. It’d be rude not to take full advantage of his hospitality.
I was into the third drawer, a picture of a young woman in my hand, when the desk com sounded. I picked it up, still looking at the digital image. The dark-haired woman was undeniably beautiful, a pale neck extending high above the deep cleavage on a red gown that shimmered like blood. Her green eyes lacked Maya’s vitality, but still, she was far too good for the likes of Smithton. “Leo?” I said into the com.
“Jag’s reporting in, Cap. Handing you over.”
The screen blurred as it swapped hands, Jag coming into focus. “Herc, the C.O. hasn’t gone through the gates, and I can’t scent him either.”
“What the hells? Where is he?”
Jag shrugged, his shoulders extending beyond the vidcom screen. “Beats me. You finding anything there?”
I held the digital image up to the screen. “Only this. Some other woman he’s got his fucking sleazy eyes on. He’s got a damn blow-up of this one on his wall, too.” My gut coiled tight. If he liked to keep pictures of women, would he have one of Maya? “Gotta go, Jag. I’ll wait here for him.”
Jag glanced over his shoulder, and nodded to someone off-screen, then faced me again. “Okay. Remember to stay chill.”
I disconnected before Jag could suggest that maybe he should come babysit me. Because the thought of Smithton having photos of Maya, along with my memory of his room full of scanty female clothing, had anger pulsing through me, and neither Leo or Jag needed to know how close I was to losing control. My hand hovered over the com. I could buzz down to the guard, have him connect me through to Maya. Damn, I’d love to hear her voice purr in my ear, right now. But it was late. She’d worked all day, and now she’d be curled up snug in her bed—our bed. And I had work to do here.
I shoved the image back in the drawer and pulled open the next one.
Three hours later, I’d searched every nook and cranny of Smithton’s rooms. Other than some perverted sex toys I really didn’t want to dwell on, I’d discovered nothing. Seemed either he had little knowledge of the inner workings of the Regime, or he kept the information locked away elsewhere.
Maybe wherever he was.
I’d gone back downstairs four times, checking that the guard, by now familiar enough with my presence to introduce himself as Darryl, hadn’t warned him off. I scented outside each time, too.
Finally, I heard footsteps in the lower entry, followed by the burr of the lift. The vidcom buzzed, and Darryl whispered conspiratorially, “He’s on his way.”
“Good man.” I disconnected, hauled myself out of the chair, stretched, then leaned against the wall.
The door opened hesitantly as Smithton found it unlocked. Before he’d focused on me, I was across the room, behind him, slamming the panel shut.
My nose twitched at the smell of blood. Smithton wasn’t usually the type to get his hands dirty.
“What the hells are you doing in here?” The C.O. sounded more resigned than surprised.
Disappointing. I’d have to step it up a bit.
I allowed my claws and fangs to extend, though they were scaled to match my human form.
Fear flickered instantly across Smithton’s countenance. “Dammit, man, I haven’t been anywhere near your whore.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” I wanted to smash his face for speaking about Maya that way, but Jag’s caution rang in my ears. We needed information. “What’s with the armed drones, Smithton?”
To his credit, his confusion seemed genuine. “What the hell are you talking about? You mean the one that took out your cat?”
“That one and the others. The ones that have been targeting us since we got here.”
He shrugged and made his way to the kitchen off the open plan lounge room. I followed, keeping an eye on him in case he went for the knives. It’d be the last move he’d ever make, and a big part of me hoped he’d take the chance. “Damn rebels. If you’d do your fucking job, this wouldn’t have happened. Your friend’s blood is on your hands.”
That cut deep. “And whose is on yours?” I jerked my chin at his sleeve, spattered with rust flecks of dried blood.
He glanced down, then shoved his hands beneath the counter. “None of your concern, Ligerkin.”
I shrugged. He was right, I’d sniffed deep, and the blood was none that I recognized. I needed to keep focus. “I have intel that those drones don’t belong to the rebels.” I was careful not to use ‘the Resistance’, or he might realize I was more familiar with them than I’d been only hours earlier.
“Intel?” He sneered. “You’re hardly in a position to have any form of intelligence.”
&
nbsp; I let the slur pass. I had bigger eelon to fry than trading schoolyard taunts. “How many men have you lost to the armed drones over the past ten years, Commander?”
“I haven’t been here ten years.”
“How many in how long?” I planted my hands, claws extended, on the counter. I didn’t have time for his word games. Spike lay dead and Maya lay waiting.
He flinched. “I’ve been here six goddamned years. Two men.”
“Both last week. And both when my men were targeted.”
Doubt flickered across his face. Hells, he really didn’t know anything about the drones. Frustration growled through me, and he took a step back.
“Talk now, Smithton, before I rip your damn tongue out through your ass.” Yeah, sorry Jag, this interrogation was taking too long to get nowhere.
Smithton rubbed both hands across his face, though I caught him glance from behind them, toward the top drawer. Be funny if he tried to go for it, as I’d already relocated the knives to another cupboard. He sighed heavily. “Look, you idiot crossbreed, I don’t know anything about the drones. I’m stuck in this hellish place, just following orders, same as you. If the Regime is after your blood, that’s not my problem.”
“But they are after our blood? Why?” It’d been bothering me since he’d ordered Maya to collect our blood and have it tested. There was no way to accuse Smithton directly, though, without implicating that Maya had confided her suspicion about the Regime trying to collect our DNA. He might think I was fucking her, but he didn’t need to know she was betraying the Regime.
His eyes slid from mine, and he shrugged. “Don’t know and I don’t care. It’s above my pay grade. I’m here with one job to do.”
“And what is that job?” I snarled, rounding the counter to approach him. “Torturing women and children?”
He backed up, but his words were firm. “You’re here for the money. I’m here for revenge. I’m going to kill every last fucking rebel hiding out there.”
I knew soldiers, and I knew the passion they had for the job. But his words went beyond that. They didn’t come from a gut anger, they came from the heart.
“Revenge?”
His shoulders slumped, his eyes glazing with sorrow. “Those murdering rebel bastards killed my only child. My daughter. Never even returned her body to me for burial.” His fists clenched. “I’ll see every one of them ripped apart and split between the seven hells for that. And that’s what you’re supposed to be doing, shifter.”
Sudden empathy clenched my gut. Misguided, brutal and cowardly, still Smithton knew loss.
And he was no damn use to me.
Me and the guys spent the rest of the night getting wasted. A wake for Spike, where we dredged up every story we could remember from the last eight years, when he’d joined us as a raw recruit.
I’d used Leo’s vidcom to leave Maya a voice message, telling her to let me know as soon as she woke and, defying a hangover that shouldn’t have been possible, given that I’d not slept, I’d spent the last couple of hours waiting for her to call. She’d said she wasn’t on duty at the med center until the afternoon, so I figured she’d sleep in.
A brief knock sounded at the door. The four of us exchanged glances and shrugs. None of us were expecting anyone. My heart gave a stupid leap. It had to be Maya, the Felidaekin didn’t generally get visitors.
“Damn, bro, don’t give yourself whiplash,” Khal chuckled as I hurdled the back of the lounge, rather than take the time to go around.
“Hey, I would’ve—” I started as I yanked the door open. Silver glinted beneath a hood pulled low, the frame too tall to be my woman.
The person glanced up, and I narrowed my eyes. She was familiar, but I couldn’t immediately place her.
“May I come in?” Her voice husky, she glanced around furtively, then eased her hood back a little. Silver hair. The doctor from the clinic.
I stood back and waved her in.
As I shut the door, she pushed her hood clear, quickly assessing the room. Her tense stance betrayed her nerves, but as she looked toward the kitchen, her shoulders dropped a little.
“Janie!” Leo sounded surprised, but the doctor shot him a smile, as though relieved to see him.
“Leo. I need to talk to you. Well, to Herc, I think?”
Whether her uncertainty related to my name, or something else, I’d sure as heck never heard someone sound less like they actually wanted to talk. I moved away from her and sat on the arm of a chair so that, although she was unusually tall for a woman, I’d be nearer her height. “What is it?”
“I think that…” She chewed on her lip, eyeing me suspiciously. “I get the impression that you and Maya are close?”
Arms crossed over my chest, I tightened my jaw. “And if we are?” Her boss better not be planning to give her a hard time.
She shook her head, her eyes sliding to Leo, still in the kitchen, as though she’d find support there.
I scowled at him.
The doctor shoved her hands deep into the pockets of the cloak she wore open over a lab coat and met my eyes. “I think Maya’s with the Resistance.”
“So, you inform on her to the Regime’s best fighters?” I growled. She wouldn’t get out of here alive.
“Wait, Herc.” Leo strode forward. “What is it, Janie?”
The doctor angled toward him. “She’s in trouble.”
My hackles rose. She was threatening my woman. “Unless you’ve got proof, you’d better get out of here.”
Janie stiffened her spine and glared at me, her purple eyes sparking and her tone icy. “You don’t understand. Maya’s my friend.”
“Yet you come to tell us that she’s with the Resistance? Some friend.”
She shook her head. “I don’t give a damn who she’s with. I’m employed by the Regime, but I don’t owe allegiance to either side of this vile war. I only care about the injured. And now, if you’d shut up for a minute, I’m trying to tell you that I think Maya might be in trouble.”
“What the hells?” I lurched up and grabbed her forearm, but Leo’s hand slammed down on mine, disengaging us.
“Easy, Cap.”
Janie rubbed her arm where I’d grabbed. “I’ve only got a minute. I’m on duty. But Smithton was in my clinic, and he took a call on open com. It was a report from a patrol. They said they’d intercepted Maya nearly forty clicks outside the compound, and that she was headed North. In the general direction of the rebel stronghold they’ve been searching for.”
“Maya was outside the wall?” Fuck, I needed to sit my ass back down. “And they caught her?”
Janie looked at me for a long moment, making it clear that there’d be hell to pay if I gave her the wrong answer. I liked that she seemed determined to stick up for Maya. “I’ll ask you again. Whose side are you on?”
“What?”
“You’re fighting for the Regime, but if Maya is a rebel, are you with her?” she barked.
I crowded into her space, towering over her, but she stood her ground. “What the hells is it to you, woman?” No way would I incriminate Maya.
She flicked the striking silver hair back over her shoulder but didn’t flinch. “You need to decide right now. Smithton told the patrol not to bring her back in.”
“They’re to let her go?” The C.O. intended to have her followed, then. Damn, I hoped she didn’t head direct for the Resistance’s cave network. I’d have to reach her, first, without the Regime fighters catching us.
Janie shook her head. “Smithton’s exact words were ‘Don’t bring her back. She’s either rebel scum or a cat-loving bitch. Make sure she dies out there.’”
I tore my shirt over my head as I made for the door.
Jag barred my way, shoving hard against my chest. “Five minutes, Cap. We need a plan, and you need your pack.”
Gods, no time. “Jag, you’re with me. Leo, you and Khal get Spike’s body, meet us in the desert. If anyone asks, we’ve gone after the rebel stronghold.”
Khal turned to her. “Not in your med center. Tina said he’s been moved to the morgue.”
Janie shook her head. “I heard he was brought in dead. But there’s no body to release to you. Not in the med center or the morgue.” Frowning, she tapped her chin. “There’s something…odd going on here.”
“Then where the fuck is he?” I glanced over at Leo. “You got this covered? I have to get out there.” Spike was already dead, I couldn’t help him.
Gods allow I could get to Maya in time.
#
My lungs burned, my chest aching as I stretched my legs to their fullest extent, each bound clawing up vast tracts of land. Yet never had I felt I was moving so slowly.
Smithton’s words kept playing in my head. He had to mean for his troops to leave Maya in the desert. He’d expect her to succumb to heat or the sand vipers.
He couldn’t have meant anything more sinister than that.
Because, even without having formed the third bond, my aching heart told me I couldn’t live without her.
I scented blood.
Jag matched my stride, though foam flecked his black hide. His steel-blue eyes widened. He could smell it, too.
The dunes and hills blocked my view for too long, and the smell became stronger, the iron tang fouling my mouth, before I could discern anything on the horizon.
Then I saw it. Four stakes set in the ground.
I knew what this was. I’d seen it before.
Or, rather, I’d seen the after-effects. Bodies pegged out in the afternoon sun, to either fry and shrivel in the heat or, more often, for the sand vipers to rush from beneath the ground, snatching the still-live prey and dragging them down the massive worm holes to devour.
We were traveling too fast for sand vipers to catch us, but, tied down, as soon as Maya moved, she’d summon them.
