Realizing he had nowhere to go, the trapper triggered the taser wand, a stream of electricity visible along its length. Conlon could smell the man's fear and panic like acid in his nose. Trappers knew to steer clear of warriors when they encountered them, only electing to fight when faced with no other alternative.
The man’s suicidal choices were few. Truth be known, Conlon expected him to turn and run back down the alley where Mattie waited for him. She'd already neutralized his cohort.
With rolling, graceful stealth, Mattie shifted into a black panther, sidling along the buildings with her shadow behind the man. Conlon grinned; she was an impatient little Tellus. His grin morphed to a growl at the whistling sound of the trapper waving the wand back and forth in front of his body like a fencing sword.
“Bring it, scumbag.” The guy’s knuckles were white on the hand that gripped the knife, and then the idiot charged.
Conlon shook his head, pulled the Glock 9 mm with the silencer from the holster under his arm, and fired. The bloom of blood at the guys shoulder declared he hit his mark, and the wand dropped to the pavement as Mattie pounced from behind. The stunned look on the guy’s face just before he face-planted with a two-hundred-pound panther on his back, knocking him out, was priceless. Human weapons worked well on humans.
Slipping the Glock back into the holster, he shrugged out of his jacket, laying it over the shoulders of the feline form. Mattie shifted back, holding the front of the jacket closed for modesty. A female Aquatie carrying Mattie's clothes and a Hulven male with the other trapper thrown over his shoulder strode toward them.
“Are we late?” the Aquatie asked with a grin.
Mattie quirked her eyebrow in question as she took her offered clothes.
“Nope, you're just in time to do clean up, and you’ll have to do the interrogations,” Conlon stated. He expected them to groan, but they both nodded agreeably when he gave them the details of the altercation. He turned to his confused partner. “I didn't get a chance to tell you before, we've been re-assigned.”
“No way.” She stomped her foot like an impertinent child. “This is our take-down … And I didn’t kill them for a change.” A soft blush turned her mocha cheeks a peach color.
Conlon had grown up around Tellus colonies. Mattie was heir to the throne of her mother, Queen Della, yet he couldn’t imagine anyone less Queen-like than Mattie. Della was never intimidated, always controlled, rigid, stable, and objective. Though a fierce warrior, Mattie was reckless, impulsive, stubborn, witty, and fun with people she knew, but shy, broody, and withdrawn with strangers.
“Orders, Mattie.” Conlon grinned at her. She pursed her lips, slipped her arms into his jacket and snapped it up with a huff as she followed him, moping.
****
“Stacey, the threats are directed at you, not Johnny.” Cassie stood with her hands on her hips. Her mahogany brown hair swung from a high ponytail down her back. Her cheeks flamed red under her dark, mocha skin tone, showing her angry frustration. “Someone tried to shoot you last night, for hells sake. If you're bound and determined to go on this trip, at least take your full security detail. Hire more guards to stay here if you think it's necessary.”
“Tried and failed … get the hell over it already. I’ll do whatever I want.” Stacey threw clothes from her closest onto the bed next to her suitcase. “Besides, I wouldn't have time to get proper background checks done. I want people here that I trust.” The last thing she needed was to worry about more people getting hurt simply by being in her presence.
She and Cassie had been having the same argument since Stacey's decision to do a surprise inspection on her companies. She'd be damned before she allowed those rogue assholes to force her back into hiding. She'd spent her whole life under the threat of kidnapping because of her family’s wealth. Johnny's safety was far more important than her own, so she was only taking three of her guards and her personal head of security with her. She trusted him, plus she had her terrifyingly volatile ability now, and she could port if need be. The naive “human” girl the rogues captured five years ago had died in her cage. Stacey had no intention of raising her from the grave or living in crippling fear. Plus new people stressed her out. What if the stress made her …
Cassie stepped back toward the bedroom doorway before dropping her next bombshell. “Well, like it or not, I called the SOSC this morning. They are sending a couple of warriors to accompany you. If you won't cover your ass, then I will. Let me know if you want my resignation.” She turned and exited the room.
Damn it! If anyone else had talked to her like that, they’d be fired on the spot. Stacey scowled at the two guards standing outside her bedroom with amused looks on their faces. Fucking Cassie! Her job was to protect and care for Johnny, not meddle in Stacey's life. The only reason she had kept Cassie on staff after she'd shrugged off the SOSC's shroud of protection was because Cassie had been a volunteer the night Stacey was freed from the rogues’ breeding lab. Bet the rock stars Cassie used to work for didn't put up with her telling them what they could and couldn't do.
Worse than that … Cassie was the closest thing to a friend Stacey had. That should be reason enough to fire her. Friends are a weakness that Stacey sure as shit didn’t need … or want. Being a mother left her enough of a vulnerability. Only with Johnny did she allow her softer side to show. Cassie was the only person who knew of Stacey’s ability. She understood Stacey’s fear of harming Johnny and enabled Stacey to have a relationship with her son.
She had every intention of traveling mainstream and taking her personal guards by private jet to the impromptu meetings. Now, she almost felt like psychically porting and ditching the whole lot of them just to make a point. She wasn't a prisoner and she wouldn't be dictated to by a Tellus female under her employ. Yes, these trips put her at a higher risk, using her given name in person rather than by email and Skype the way she usually ran her business, but it was necessary to keep the CEOs of her companies on their toes. Her father had instilled the need to be a presence if you wanted to remain effective. Stacey made sure to do that at least once every four to six months.
For the first few years after her rescue she didn't, and her father's corporation had been severely mismanaged. Between her pregnancy and her fear, she stayed cooped up until she couldn’t take it. Most of the females rescued that night didn’t understand Stacey’s independence. They were so traumatized from the time they’d spent in the breeding and blood labs that they were just happy to be safe. For a while Stacey had felt to same way. The community was soothing, tranquil … mind-numbing.
It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate what the Symbiosis of Species Council had done for her. Everything a horrifically victimized person could ever need to heal on every level had been made available to the survivors over the last five years. But Stacey wasn't like them.
She had had a full life before the rogues fucked it up and captured her. Hell, she thought she was human. Pampered and loved by her parents, surrounded by a loving household staff and friends, she had everything and anything she could ever want. Her only obligation was the hours her father spent grooming her to take over the conglomerate giant corporation he had built from the ground up. Her parents had tried to have children for twenty years before adopting her in their mid-forties. At sixty-seven, her father had been pushing her hard so he could retire and enjoy time with her mother. They had no clue their half-Elven, half-human daughter would cost them their lives.
Stacey swore under her breath and buried the hurtful memory before it could fully encroach. She flung the door open. “Get Mark,” she demanded to anyone within hearing range and slammed the door again.
Arms crossed, she paced her room impatiently waiting for her personal assistant. Her security personnel are all members of an enlightened species, but the rest of her staff consisted of mostly humans, including Mark. Eager to please and thick-skinned, he was good at keeping her itinerary on track.
She heard him laughing with the guards
, though he had a straight face when he entered and quietly shut the door behind him before lifting a brow in question. “I laid out what I want to take. Add the shit I need and then get yourself packed—you’re coming with.” If she were going to have to deal with SOSC warriors tagging along, she wanted a buffer. The only visible indication of his ire was the furrowing of his brow before he nodded.
Leaving him to the task of packing, she went in search of the only person with a chance to pull her from her feeling of discomfort: Johnny. At least she would have a few hours to spend with him before leaving. She found him in the playroom, listening to Cassie read him a story.
Chapter Two
Soon. The thought brought a smile to Mick. The Mesa, Arizona Human Integration Campus was not an exciting vacation destination, but the commandant, Shane Einar, had come to Mick a month ago and offered him a position teaching advanced reconnaissance to the students—the same position he currently had, yet he’d taken the job. It was where Mattie was stationed. Once the psychic energy weave finished another round of re-enforcements, the SOSC felt it would be strong enough to protect Mick on the mainland. The extreme security measures Commandant Einar had approved just for him to teach a class had filled Mick with gratitude. Did the commandant know of Mick and Mattie’s … friendship?
Thick tropical leaves brushed his arms and legs as he wandered down the familiar path to the pond that had become his refuge. It had been more than four years since Mick Tenor’s defection from his father, Osiris, in favor of the Symbiosis of Species Council. Four years on the SOSC’s pacific island known as Meshy Hell. Four years of having to fight compulsions his father had buried into his subconscious without Mick’s knowledge or approval.
The healers working with him to manage the paternal bond his father had to him were beginning to sound like a broken record. There was no telling how many compulsions Osiris had planted; there was also no way of knowing when one would overtake him, or what it would incite him to do. He understood that. It didn’t mean he liked it.
He carried an Epi shot loaded with a powerful animal tranquilizer just in case he felt a compulsion coming on. Thankfully he’d only had to use it once. Well, Mattie had used it on him—in self-defense—when he tried to kill her while under the dark influence. An amazing Tellus warrior, Mattie had never lost her cool. She shocked him with a pulse of electromagnetic energy generated from her body, found the Epi pen, and knocked him out quickly without any hesitation.
At that point in their budding friendship, he hadn’t shared much of his background with her, though pretty much everyone on campus was aware that Mick’s father’s organization was extensive, global, and one of the few that was powerful enough to pose a real threat to the SOSC and the entire world. Osiris exceeded the “rogue” qualifications many times over. The greatest advantage the SOSC had over Mick’s father was the symbiosis of the three enlightened species. Osiris believed the Volaticus Elven purebloods should rule and subjugate all other life forms, a belief Mick prayed would soon be his father’s downfall. Only with Osiris’s death would Mick be truly free.
Only after he tried to attack his best friend in the world did he tell Mattie everything. He even shared with her the horrors of what he personally had done at the command of his father. She had been understanding, even forgiven him the atrocities he’d done to Tellus captives, forgiveness he hadn’t expected from her or anyone, really. Eventually their relationship had developed sexually and further enhanced their friendship. Mattie was absolutely stunning. With her mocha skin, dark hair, and amber eyes, Mick had been physically attracted to her immediately.
A calm silence freed his mind when the pond came into view. He picked up a few stones and skipped them over the water. He missed Mattie so much his heart constricted in his chest. This was more than his spot … it was their spot. She’d made him aware before they’d taken their relationship to a sexual level that they could never grow beyond friends with benefits. Mattie was in line for her mother’s crown, though Mattie had no interest in being queen of her colony. Unfortunately, for Mattie, being heir to the crown and throne meant her marriage was contracted. Mattie liked the prince she was promised to; they were pretty good friends. The problem was, neither of them wanted to marry the other, nor could they figure out a way to get out of the arranged marriage. Instead they used loopholes to keep delaying the nuptials.
He and Mattie’s arrangement was more than Mick felt he deserved. They could tell each other anything. She was playful, smart, beautiful, and funny. Mick loved everything about her. Truth be known, he’d been in love with her since the day they met.
When they had graduated from the human integration course, Mattie had jumped at the chance to be an active SOSC warrior. For his protection, Mick was stuck on this island and under the energy weave that surrounded it. He’d taken a permanent job on campus while Mattie had been transferred to Mesa and partnered with a seasoned warrior named Conlon Einar. Her visits were less frequent lately, though they talked by phone several times a week. Mattie loved stalking the scum of the earth, and Mick both envied and cheered her every success.
Before Mattie, he’d only ever had sex once. It was one of the few secrets he hadn’t shared with his best friend. He didn’t even know the girl’s name, nor did he know about the compulsions. It had to have been a compulsion that had come over him during that assignment. Nothing else explained it. Granted, the female was in the throes of her first estrus and Becoming at the time, but still, she hadn't been the first female he'd been assigned to guard who had been in estrus, and he'd been able to resist them all. Why not that time? He'd broken many rules with her, talking to her for one.
She was scared. They were all scared. Hell, they needed to be scared … terrified. His orders had been routine for a female starting into the horrific process of Becoming into Volaticus traits. If she entered into estrus …
It horrified Mick to think of all the times females had been brutalized while he'd stood by doing nothing. He'd believed in his father's psychopathic agenda fully, wanted his father's approval so badly. Mick had been a demon. Looking back, he knew his experience with that particular female had been the turning point in his life. The time spent with her floated into his mind.
When his duty rotation had come, he had privately hoped no one would enter the horrific process. If he could, he had avoided that underground section completely. Then the call came, and his bad mood had fouled more. Becoming was a one to two week process, depending on the gender. Females took longer and often entered estrus. He had looked up at the moon in the clear sky, knowing it would be the last time he saw it for a while.
His boots had crossed the threshold of the area used for only two bloody purposes: Becoming and births. He had continued down the corridor haunted by the screams and cries that he’d heard echo through these now silent hallways. Every wall, ceiling, and floor was composed of smooth plates of stainless steel with a mesh of iron and platinum behind it. The floors dipped to accommodate drains every few yards. How much blood had been washed down each of them?
Outside one of the sealed transition rooms, three large males had stood laughing as they recapped the gruesome details of their latest capture. That was to be his assignment. The males stood at respectful attention when he approached. As one of Osiris’s sons, he held rank above everyone except Osiris’s chosen compound leaders, who are all pureblood Elven, and of course Osiris himself.
“Gender?” He didn’t bother with niceties.
“Female, sir.”
“From your gloating, I assume she’s a new captive.” He gave them a disapproving glare. Braggers drew attention. These soldiers should know better.
“Yes, sir. By all indication, she is unaware of her species, sir.” The speaker of the three had the intelligence to show shame at gloating, as did one of the two standing just behind him. The third curled his lip in an arrogant smirk. The bastards should be shaking in their boots.
Mick shadowed to invisibility, withdrew his ivory dagg
er and slipped behind the arrogant ass. Using the stealth of his assassin bloodline, he gripped the male’s hair and removed his head before the guy knew what happened or the others could react. Eyes wide, the remaining two stared at their lifeless buddy. Mick released his shadow.
“Speaking of missions with anyone is forbidden. I should kill you too.” Mick wiped his bloody blade on the already blood spattered shirt of the speaker.
To the male’s credit, he lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. “I willingly accept the consequences of my action, sir.” The other solider tried to match his college’s stance, but Mick could see the tremors of fear in the guy.
“Let this be a warning.” Mick pointed to the corpse at his feet with the tip of his dagger. The two males nodded with gratitude. “Dispose of it and clean this mess up.” He entered the sealed room with the female.
The sound of spraying water didn’t penetrate the dense soundproofing once the door closed behind him. He could see the soldiers’ grave expressions through the small four-by four-observation window. If Osiris or the compound leader had heard them bragging, all three would have been killed.
A soft groan from behind him had him glancing over his shoulder in time to see a mass of black waves lurch toward the stainless steel toilet as the girl vomited. Unbelievably, he found himself holding her hair back from her face. The second he realized what he was doing, he dropped the tresses and forced his feet to take him to the furthest corner from her.
Nude when she’d been tossed into the transition cell, the curves of her hips flared wide where she knelt at the basin. Her particular scent filled the room. He wasn’t a big fan of coconut, but his body’s response was overwhelming. What the fuck? On hands and knees, she crawled back to the two-inch, waterproof resting mat. He doubted she knew he was in the room. She sat, drew her knees to her chest, and let out a mournful wail that sent a shiver down his spine. “They’re dead … my god, they’re all dead,” he heard through broken sobs.
Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three) Page 2
