Shattered Stars

by Theresa Kay

  There’s a chorus of “Yes, sir,” and the men break into two groups, one headed toward the warehouses and the other headed in my direction. I withdraw into the alley, grateful for the dark jacket that allows me to blend into the shadows. The soldiers walk by the alley without a glance, and my attention returns to the man left behind.

  There’s a decision to be made. Do I confront this man or follow one of the groups to see where they’re going? That inkling of familiarity is what holds me in place. It bothers me. Why would I know him? Have I met him before?

  He pulls a radio from his waist and speaks into it. “I have selected fifty men for the project and deployed two teams to carry out our agreement. Everything is going as planned. The Linauds will be taken care of, and the child will be delivered to you at the agreed-upon location.”

  From the radio: “Perfect.”

  One word, two syllables, in a voice that’s the same as the one crawling through my head. Grandfather is on the other end of that radio. My stomach twists and I drop to the ground, ice-cold terror creeping up my body. Deep breaths. Just breathe. Be strong.

  My desire to confront the man with the radio flees. He’s too close to Grandfather. I’ll go after the men instead. It’s more important now than ever to find out what they’re up to. More important than finding Jax. Because they’re working for Grandfather, and nothing good comes from Grandfather. Knowing who and what and where and why is now my sole focus.

  I run to the opposite side of the alley and move parallel to the group of men for two blocks before cutting across to the street they’re on. Whatever they’re doing, they’re not worried about discovery. They walk down the street like it’s nothing, outright waving to a few people as they pass. This is a military base, so armed soldiers are a familiar sight, and not a single person they pass looks at them like there’s anything out of the ordinary.

  I wish I had their ease. Because now that I’m in the open, out of the alleys and side streets, the people look at me, watch me, stare a little. Suspicion is gathering in their minds. I could float across the tops of their minds, make them not notice me, or look the other way, but my range on things like that isn’t always predictable. If these people start acting strangely where those soldiers can see them… all they’d have to do is glance behind them to find the reason.

  So I straighten my shoulders and try to walk with a confidence I don’t have.

  The men slow as they approach a dormitory-type building similar to the one I left earlier. They exchange silent looks, and three of them fan out along the sides of the building while the other two walk inside.

  Dammit. I’ll have to waste precious seconds waiting to see what the three men outside do. Or… maybe not. Specific targets I can handle.

  I send tendrils of my consciousness ghosting through the air and latch on to each man. With a simple flicker of effort, they all fall to the ground simultaneously. Not dead, though the darkness in the back of my mind whispers they should be. Too bad they aren’t farther back; anyone walking by might notice them. Oh well. Too late to do anything about it now.

  I dart inside the building. The two men have long since disappeared. This place has multiple doors and multiple stories, and many of the rooms are occupied—too many. I doubt I can pick out the men I’m looking for by searching through minds. But I’ll try.

  There’s something different above me—a mind with a familiar note of “other.” An E’rikon mind. It’s the gold-haired boy from the clearing, if I’m reading him correctly. A friend to my sister, no matter how much he resembles another golden-haired E’rikon. Yes. A friend. I have to remember that.

  And there are more. Two—no, three more E’rikon on the floor above. A room in the corner of the building farthest from where I am. Are they the erks the man with the radio was referring to? They have to be—golden means Linaud. That’s where the men are headed.

  I dash for the stairs and bound up them two at a time. On the second floor, I send my mind searching again. The E’rikon are still above me. I continue upward.

  I’m three steps away from the next landing when alarm flashes through one of the E’rikon. I was right: they’re in danger.

  I rush out of the stairwell and down the hall. All the doors are closed, no telltale gaping doorway to let me know where to go, but I follow the sense of the E’rikon to the last door on the left. Muffled voices come from inside—along with that sense of fear and agitation.

  My resolve wavers. What am I supposed to do? I have no weapon, and given how he reacted to me earlier, Jax’s friend will not be so happy to see me. What if I’m wrong? What if…

  An ache forms behind my eyes, stabbing into my temples and fogging my brain. Not now. I can’t…

  A crash from behind the door makes the decision for me. Instinct has my hand twisting the doorknob and propelling me into the room. On one side an E’rikon, yellow and familiar, grapples with one of the men. I’ve seen her fight. As long as it’s not against me, she’ll be fine.

  Another female is backed into a corner. Jax’s friend is standing in front of her in a protective stance.

  All eyes turn to me. Weaponless. Alone. Weak.

  The color leeches out of Jax’s friend. The fighting female pauses in surprise. She’s quickly caught, disarmed, and trapped.

  And the other female… bone-deep terror drips from her. Not because of them. Because of me. I step toward her, some bit of reassurance on my lips, but one of the men throws up a hand to stop me.

  “We got this,” he says. “Go back to your cage, little pet.”

  Little pet? I cock my head to the side, studying him with narrowed eyes. A memory teases at my mind, nibbling along the edges before biting in with a vengeance.

  This man was there. After Peter’s. Before Bridgelake. Before Flint. Before now. Him and the man with the radio. And the others…

  I flinch against a sudden throb at my temples. The memory digs in further, revealing its claws.

  I was a demonstration. How I loathe that word…

  Grandfather had me do tricks to show that man and the other—General, he called him—what I was capable of, what he had to gain with Grandfather on his side. Darkness. Death. And power.

  They laughed, the others. And this one, he called me Grandfather’s little pet. Asked if the mutt knew how to roll over.

  My jaw tenses, and my teeth grind together. Mocking laughter echoes in my ears, and underneath, the cruelty of this man is clear. And his arrogance… He thinks he’s already won. He thinks I’m nothing. He thinks I’m less. He thinks I’m tamed.

  But he’s so very wrong.

  “Do you know how to roll over?” I ask politely.

  Confusion washes across his face. He casts a glance at his partner.

  He doesn’t answer, but that’s okay. I’ll find out on my own.

  A smile creeps onto my face, and I think it’s then that he knows. Eyes wide, he tries to raise his gun, but I already have hold of his limbs. I strip his muscles of strength, and he crumples to the floor with a yelp. The other man takes a single step before I drop him too.

  The yellow-haired E’rikon, my would-be assassin, moves a hand slowly toward her blade, her eyes on me.

  I jerk my chin toward the man near her. “He’s yours.”

  I turn my back to her. The other man is mine. Kneeling next to him, I stare into his eyes. “You saw the things he made me do, and you called me his pet.” I spit the last word at him with a snarl. “I’m not that anymore.” I lean in closer so I can whisper in his ear. “If there was time, I’d make you suffer.”

  Molten rage travels to my fingertips, and I press them, one by one, to his chest, right above his heart. I have his vocal cords locked in a stranglehold, so when I start pouring that fire into him, he can’t make a sound. But the pain shows in his eyes, unparalleled anguish written on baby blues. Another day, with another victim, the color of his eyes might have stopped me—but this man was part of the events leading up to the light leaving the blue eyes I loved
so much. So I watch death creep into these eyes…

  … And I smile.

  THE TRIP TO THE HOUSE that Emily and Stu have been staying in is dragging out into what feels like hours. Every street we cross, every corner we turn, my brain keeps screaming, “Hurry, hurry, hurry.” I hated leaving Jace behind, asleep and vulnerable, but neither Emily nor Stu have a radio, and no one knows where they are—which means no one knows where Ethan is either.

  Bree was easy to locate. She was already with Patrick Larson—one of Gavin’s men—and she’s still with him now as they make their way to meet up with the others at the factory. That’s where Ethan, Emily, and Stu will be heading as well.

  As soon as we find them.

  How could I have been so stupid? That whole conversation, that whole “deal” with Jastren sounded off. He’s been ten steps ahead of me every time; why would I think I was ever ahead of him? And now he’s like a hundred steps ahead of me, of us, because no one knows what his plan really is. No one knows what end result he’s aiming for.

  Probably not even his human allies.

  I curse General Carter’s double-crossing ways. What did Jastren promise him? I barely know the man, and his motives are a complete mystery, so I have no idea what he’d be after. What could he hope to gain by working with Jastren? Every idea I come up with is quickly discarded. None of this makes any sense!

  But that doesn’t matter. Whether we know all the details or not, what we do know is that Ethan and Bree are in danger, much more than I realized. And I have a sinking feeling the danger is already here. There’s an ominous feeling in the air, heavy, thick, and dark, and anxiety is buzzing along my nerves.

  What if we’re too late? I wasted all that time earlier trying to train with Vitrad. Sure, I got some results—with Rym—but otherwise it was all useless. I could’ve stayed with Ethan. Hell, I should have listened to Vitrad and brought the kid to the training. Then, maybe…

  It wouldn’t have helped. I still would have sent him back to Stu and Emily when Jace showed up.

  I skid around the last corner, with Lir and Gavin close behind. The house is right there at the end of the street, looking blissfully normal and quiet.

  Except the front door is wide open.

  Gavin pulls a handgun from a holster at his waist and holds a hand up for Lir and me to stop. He moves forward in a silent and carefully controlled motion. He steps through the door with his gun held out in front of him, checks either side of the door, then motions us inside.

  A muffled scream—Emily’s—sounds from above and rockets through my nerve endings. My friend is in danger and I have to get to her. I push past Gavin, despite his attempts to hold me back, and run up the stairs two at a time.

  There are two men standing at the end of the hallway facing a closed bedroom door. They don’t see me, haven’t heard me—their attention is entirely on the door. One of them backs up, lifts a booted foot, and kicks it into the door, splintering the wood and allowing him and the other man to enter.

  “Hey!” I yell.

  The men turn, bringing up their guns and…

  And… I have nothing. No weapon. No protection. Fear locks my body in place. Instinct has me reaching out with a mental attack, but I’m not quick enough yet and—

  Gavin slides past me, shoving me roughly out of the way, and takes two quick shots. The two men slump to the ground. Gavin keeps his gun trained on their still forms as he approaches. His foot crashes into one man’s side, then the other. When neither man stirs, he returns his gun to its holster.

  I close the distance between us, and his face jerks to me.

  “What the hell were you thinking? I know you’ve got some fancy superpowers, but being bulletproof is not one of them as far as I know,” he snaps, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Redness creeps up his neck. “Jesus.” He drags his hand down his face. “Dammit Jax, I know you want to help, but you can’t help anyone if you’re dead.”

  Lir comes up behind me, fuming. He’s right. What were you thinking?

  The censure in his words—in both of their words—lights a flame of anger in my chest. At myself. No matter how many times my E’rikon abilities have randomly saved my ass, I somehow doubt any of them could stop a bullet. What was I thinking?

  “Sorry,” I say quietly.

  Lir’s hand shifts. No. It shakes. The tremor is subtle, and none of his worry shows on his face, but my alien boy is truly shaken. His throat bobs as he swallows, and he offers me a tight, relieved smile before his gaze slides to the bodies on the floor. Your friend’s method was quite effective.

  “Yeah. Guns typically are.” I step over the bodies and enter the bedroom.

  Gavin and Emily are in the far corner near a door that I assume leads to a bathroom. His hand is on her shoulder, and he’s shaking his head.

  My foot catches on something on the floor—a shotgun—and it goes skittering across the wooden floor and bangs against the wall. My lips twitch. Of course Emily wouldn’t just hide—she’d defend herself. Even though the sling on her arm would have made firing that huge thing a bit of an issue.

  Her eyes find mine. “They’re not here. Stu took Ethan for a walk. I’m not sure where they were going.” She tilts her chin in the direction of the bodies. “As soon as those two barged in yelling something about getting ‘the kid,’ I ran upstairs, barricaded myself in here, and pretended they were in here with me.”

  Her hand goes to her injured shoulder, and she winces as she adjusts it. She’s playing it off well, but there’s hardly any color in her face, and her hands are shaking. She cracks a tiny smile. “I’m glad you all showed up when you did. I banged the crap out of my arm getting the shotgun from under the bed. The kickback from shooting it might have taken my other shoulder out of commission.”

  I chuckle, which is what she wanted, and she sends me a grateful look. Sometimes ill-timed humor actually does help. I’ll have to tell Rym.

  My smile falters. Oh no. Rym is with Trel. She might not be a target for Jastren, but she’s more than likely one for Carter.

  There’s not enough time to get over there, not with finding Ethan too. Here’s hoping I learned something earlier…

  I close my eyes and reach for the pale golden thread in my mind. It’s easy to find now that I know what to look for—or maybe now that I know who it belongs to. Whatever. I’ll never understand the logistics of this telepathy thing.

  Rym!

  His response is immediate. Yeah, what? Geez, you don’t have to yell. I can feel him flinching on the other side of the connection.

  I make an attempt to lower my mental volume. There is—Never mind. Long story short, someone could be after Trel. Find a safe place and stay there. We’ll meet you there as soon as we find Ethan.

  Uh… He hesitates, then continues in a cautious and wary tone. Well, we already figured out the bit about someone being after Trel. It has been… handled? I think.

  You think?

  Well… An echo of physical sensation ghosts over my hair. He’s running his hand through his own hair. And I can feel it. Weird.

  Well what?

  Your brother is here. He showed up and, well, handled things.

  Is he… What question am I trying to ask? Is he okay? Is he coherent? Is he—

  It’s fine. Besides the funny looks he’s giving me right now, he has been… polite?

  Keep him calm. I’ll be there as fast as I can. We have to find Ethan and Stu first, though.

  Will do. A mock salute brushes across my brow. Still weird.

  I release a long breath and open my eyes to find everyone, even Lir, looking at me strangely. “What?” I say.

  “You spaced out there for a second. What happened?” Emily asks.

  Lir studies my face. “She was speaking with someone. My cousin, I assume.” He smiles, a real one that goes all the way up to his eyes. It’s something I don’t think I’ve seen since… last night. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I say with a to
uch of pride. I bite at my lower lip. Should I say something about Jace being there? Lir is actually kind of happy right now; do I really want to ruin that for nothing? After all, Jace is okay for the moment, and Rym and Trel are perfectly safe with him. I’ll keep it to myself for now. Besides, we have other things to worry about. “Any ideas where Stu and Ethan may have gone?”

  Emily shrugs. “He likes to take Ethan out to look at the stars. There’s some rooftop or something he found…” She gestures to her bad arm. “It requires climbing, so I haven’t joined them.”

  Gavin rubs his temple with two fingers. “Except for the residential housing, I think all the buildings have rooftop access from the stairwells. But there’s a chapel on the eastern edge of the base. That might be the place.”

  “Yes,” Emily says. “I think that is it. Ethan mentioned something about pretty colored windows the other day. Let’s go.”

  Gavin eyes her arm, and Emily scowls at him. “I’m not staying behind,” she says. “They’re… they’re my family.” And for Emily, the girl whose family was taken from her by Dane, that means everything.

  I walk over and place a hand on her good shoulder. Brown eyes meet mine. Determined. Brave. And scared. “I know what it’s like to be so terrified for your family that you’ll go off to try to help without a second thought. I also know that doesn’t often work out well, so I need you to put your trust in me right now and stay here. You’re already injured, and I don’t want to have to choose between protecting you or someone else. I made you a promise once, to come back, to help you. That promise still stands. I will find them, and I will bring them back to you.”

  Her teeth press into her lower lip. “Thank you, Jax. For everything.” The corner of her mouth turns up, and she winks. “Bring them back safe, and I’ll make you an honorary member of the sewing circle. You don’t even have to sew anything.”