Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three)

by Hales, Wendy S.

  “Go here.” An image of a ravine floated into his mind.

  Mick landed, holding the image in his mind, and ported there. A twig protruding from the steep incline shot pain through his shoulder. Volaticus only ported to known locations specifically to avoid twigs, walls, anything of mass that occupied the same space. Osiris had probably given Mick the location on purpose. With a grunt he yanked the twig from his muscle.

  Two of his brothers dropped their shadow on either side of him. Anger ripped through Mick. “Where is my son?” The growled threat behind his words made his brothers glance at each other. Obviously Osiris had not shared that tidbit of information about Johnny with Nine and Seven. “Answer me. Where is he?”

  Nine spoke. “Osiris has gone ahead with the boy. We are to take you to him.” He held up a tranquilizer shot with an ivory needle. “I didn’t know you married or that the female had a child, brother. I am sorry.” The apology and sympathy in his brothers hazel gray eyes did not soften the impact of Nine’s statement.

  Seven scowled at Nine and Mick with disgust. “I told Sire you were too soft for this mission.” Seven threw a fistful of lead dust at Mick to make shadowing impossible. “Will you surrender or do I need to take you down?”

  “Put the needle away.” Mick held his wrists together.

  Having been the capturer many times, he knew the routine. Nine tucked the needle into a leather pouch at his waist. Porting away and back in moments, this time his brother held platinum/lead cuffs and a hood his brothers would have stashed nearby. Oh, yes, Mick knew the routine well. His brothers would have pre-gathered items containing metal like restraining items, secured SAT-type cell phones, canned rations, and other items probably weeks ago, just waiting for a chance like this. Only organic things shadowed. A snap or small button … maybe, but nothing larger—hence the ivory needle. It drove Osiris crazy that Eros had mastered a metal composition for shadowing that Osiris had obviously still been unable to duplicate.

  Nine cuffed Mick’s wrists, leaving them tight enough that Mick could not get them off, though loose enough to not pinch. Seven held up a photograph of a shoreline; a smaller photo inlayed within showed an aerial map of Chili with an X on the bottom tip of the continent. Mick met Seven’s hostile expression with a single nod. His brothers each grasped one of Mick’s arms, linking them. To port while touching, they had to do it as a unit. One goes, they all go; one deviates location, they all deviate location. Mick played with the idea of folding the port back to the Human Integration Campus. As the middle porter he held the directionality of the destination. If Osiris actually gave a shit about Nine or Seven, he might do just that.

  “Try it. I dare you,” Osiris challenged Mick’s brief thought, reminding Mick that he was monitoring Mick’s peripheral psyche. Much as Mick wanted to shield entirely, remaining open should Johnny reach for him was too important. Stacey could reach Johnny. The maternal bond is a powerful thing. “Oh, don’t you worry, I have a plan for that, too.”

  Mick did something he’d never thought to do before. He pushed back at his fathers bond and learned instantly that Osiris had drugged Johnny, tapped his son’s tiny vein to port, but didn’t take enough of Johnny blood to create a bond or put his son in danger anemically … yet. Osiris roared with fury and shoved Mick from his mind.

  Mick felt physically ill from the black-ooze feel of his father’s emotions. His father was full of narcissistic, sanctimonious, psychotic-driven darkness.

  Mick turned to Nine. “Before we port, you should know. Johnny is my biological son. Hulven males are not sterile; it just takes the right female.” He gained a small satisfaction when Osiris growled with displeasure at Mick’s disclosure. Mick turned to the disbelieving smirk on Sevens face. “If I live long enough, I will tell you how and why. You have my word.” He was a dead man anyway; giving his brothers a reason to leave Osiris might be the last thing he did.

  Seven spit into the dirt. “Your word means nothing, traitor. You lie about this to spare your miserable life. We port now.”

  Nine’s expression held an entirely different reaction. “One, Two, Three.” Mick and his brothers ported through the folded space as the whirl of helicopter blades neared the ravine.

  Mick stepped through and saw waves lapping within a few inches of his feet. The air temperature was easily sixty degrees colder than the Arizona desert they left behind. Farther down the beach, several speedboats were docked off of a steeped pier. One broke free to speed out into the ocean. Mick caught sight of Osiris and the halo of black curls held by a short-haired female within the boat. Johnny, he thought as Nine slipped the lead hood over his head, negating Mick’s psychic ability. Seven tugged his arm Mick stumbled clumsily over the rocky shore toward the pier. Where the hell was Osiris taking them?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Stacey’s hand clenched at her stomach, which knotted painfully as she listened to Umbrae recap what had happened. She sought Johnny through her maternal bond and found emptiness. Even in his sleep, she could sense his dreams. “Conlon … I can’t feel him.” What if … “I CAN’T FEEL HIM!”

  Eros, with Aymee running behind him, skidded to a stop at the porch. “They’ve been taken. My son’s found a stash of items buried just beyond the energy weaves. It’s something shadowers do when stalking targets. Osiris and his son’s have probably been watching this place since Mick arrived.”

  Stacey felt her heart flutter in her chest. “But, I can’t feeeeeeel Johnny.”

  Eros set a heavy but comforting hand to her shoulder. His silver eyes, full of compassion, reflected her image. “Stacey, Osiris would have tranquilized Johnny, not killed him. I promise you, I know my nephew. An Elven child of his bloodline is something he has desperately wanted for eons. Females have the ability to release an Elven fetus’s energy and spirit in vitro. Because of that, Osiris’s young are Hulven and, to my knowledge, males.”

  Stacey cleaved to Eros’s reassurance, her lifeline of hope, and leaned into Conlon’s hard chest. His arms wrapped around her waist from behind; otherwise Stacey knew she’d be crumbled on the ground. Taken … kidnapped … Every horror Stacey could imagine flashed through her mind. The sound of a helicopter lifting from far into the desert had her head snap up. Johnny.

  The small cluster of people who had gathered was already on the move with hard wing flaps as the Volaticus filled the sky. Stacey saw Mattie and other Tellus sinking below the surface for their quickest means of travel. Aymee, flanked by Aquaties, ran flat out like blurs of lights.

  “Stay here.” Conlon started after the others.

  “No. Damn it, he’s my son!” Stacey shimmied out of her dress and extended her wings, wearing only panties.

  “What if we’re wrong? Someone has to stay here,” Conlon reasoned.

  He hit the air like a bullet. She knew he was right, though part of her wanted to find her son and then wring Conlon’s neck for being right. Her cell phone rang inside the house. Stacey dashed through the door, praying it was news. The call came up “unknown.” “Did you find him!”

  “If you mean Johnny, he isn’t lost.” The high male voice had the kind of lilt that raised the hair on Stacey’s neck.

  Stacey took a long, deep breath as her fear deepened and called on the other emotion the voice stirred in her. Anger. “What do you want? Where is Johnny?”

  “Good to know your concern is not for my traitorous son.” The slimy voice that could only belong to Osiris seemed amused. “I have what I want. The question is, what do you want, and what are you willing to do to get it?”

  Stacey’s felt the steel doors of the breeding cage slam, the cries of females in adjacent cells. “I will do whatever you tell me to.”

  “I’m glad to know my grandson’s mother is at least intelligent. The helicopter is a ruse to give you a few minutes to pack quickly, and warmly. Leave your phone and fly south. Someone will meet up with you at some point. A child needs his mother, Stacey, especially an Elven child. If you are followed, this offe
r is void.” The call ended.

  Stacey looked north out the back window where Conlon and the others had gone for just an instant before grabbing a notebook and flying to the top of the stairs. She wrote a single-word message for Conlon. In minutes she was packed and flying low to the ground on a southern course away from the male she loved while continuing to reach for the her son through the hollowness of her maternal bond.

  High above the shifting sands of the Imperial dunes outside of Yuma, Stacey heard a long, high-pitched whistle. With her hearing, she tracked the sound over a dune. Standing in the center of the sand bowl beyond was a bare-chested male, his dark hair shining under the hot desert sun, his arms folded as he watched her land. Every inch of his face, neck and upper chest was covered in an intricate tattoo. Eyes so dark in color they looked black watched her descend intently.

  “Where is my son?” She shot at him the second her feet touched down. The male lifted the corner of his lip in a smirk. His eyes traveled her body. Try it, buddy? The paths Miguel had just helped her navigate to control her ability were instantly put to the test. She wanted to incinerate that look off her escort’s face and then felt foolish when he stepped up and tapped the bulge of money in her front pocket before bending to pat her down, beginning at her ankles. Stacey stood rigid while the male searched her thoroughly with a detached professionalism. When he was done, she handed him her bag. He smirked again before quickly leafing through her clothing, items for Johnny, and the fifty-thousand dollars inside. Apparently satisfied, he shoved it back at her.

  Without a word, the male lifted a heavy bag from the sand next to him onto his shoulder, extended his wings, and took off. Stacey’s novice flying skills struggled to keep up with the fast-moving switchback pattern of the male. At one point she lost sight of him completely. Panic nearly immobilized her until the male came from behind to fly alongside her.

  “You are not a strong flier. No wonder it took you forever to get here. I’d almost left without you.” His voice startled her. “Give me your bag.”

  Maybe she could sway this guy. “Thank you, that is very kind.” She smiled brightly at him.

  He took the bag and snorted. “I’m not being nice. We’re late. If you don’t keep up this time, I’m not turning back for you.” Effortlessly he surged ahead of her again.

  “Why the hell can’t we just port?” she called after him. The male never looked back. Asshole. The memory of how everyone but Mick refused to speak with her in the breeding lab returned.

  Even without her bag weighing her down, Stacey had trouble keeping up. She suspected the male slowed his pace despite the threat he made. She was pretty sure they neared Acapulco, Mexico when the male landed in a grove of lime trees. He cut a few of the fruits in half and handed them to her.

  “You need to cover your scent.”

  Stacey took the fruit and rubbed the juice over her exposed skin while the male peeled another one, discarded the meaty center on the ground, and extended the peels to her palm up. “What do you want me to do with those?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Tuck them into your clothing.” The annoyance at her ineptitude flared a mirroring annoyance in her, but she snatched the peels and put the rinds into her pockets.

  “Happy?” she snapped.

  With an air of dismissal, he flew off. Stacey was tired. She’d never flown much. Certainly not for more than twelve hours straight at such a high altitude for this type of distance. Thoughts of Johnny pushed her on. He turned sharply toward the pacific coast less than an hour later. Stacey ungracefully landed hard on a secluded, beautiful beach. Forward momentum and exhaustion had her face down with a mouthful of the sand, staring at the foam of a retreating wave. She scrambled to her feet before the next wave hit her.

  The male shook his head with disgust and dropped her bag none to gently before unzipping his own bag.

  “Do you have a name? Do you even know mine?” Her legs trembled with fatigue, but somehow they carried her closer to him and then gave out. Her ass hit the sand next to her bag.

  “I know who you are; Osiris gave me your dossier before he sent me to meet you.” He flipped open the cell phone he had fished from his bag, punched some numbers, and snapped it shut.

  Making the most of what could be a short break, she laid back into the sand, closing her eyes against the bright sunset reflecting brilliant colors across the ocean. “That was only one of my questions.”

  “We didn’t port because those were not my orders,” he answered her earlier question. She’d already figured out Osiris aimed to exhaust her before re-uniting her with her son. Did he know of her ability?

  “You’re being an ass … you know that, right?” She glared at the male and then let her lids fall shut dismissively. If nice didn’t work … maybe bitch would.

  His voice softened. “Twelve. I’m known as Twelve.” Stacey peeped out at him. One of poor Mick’s brothers. He stared across the majestic, rapidly darkening horizon. Despite his less than friendly treatment of her thus far, she felt compassion for him.

  “That name sucks. Mind if I call you something else?”

  He turned a narrow-eyed, suspicious glare on her. “Like what?”

  “Moody bastard” came to mind first, but from the look on Twelve’s face, he expected her to give him a name like that. “What name would you like?”

  Twelve slowly sank into a sitting position next to her, his gaze never leaving hers. “I don’t see the point in a name.” The sharpness in his words betrayed how uncomfortable he was talking to her. Of all people, Stacey understood putting up a front to keep people away.

  She rose on braced elbows in the sand as the last rays of daylight sank below the ocean beyond. “You fly like a hawk. I think I’ll call you Hawk.” He snorted and grumbled under his breath, but Stacey got the distinct impression Twelve liked the name. “So Hawk, what are we waiting for?”

  “Nine.”

  Stacey checked her watch; it was 9:15 p.m. in Arizona. Were they on Pacific Time now? “According to my watch, that’s eleven hours away?”

  Hawk looked past her farther down the shore. Stacey followed his line of sight and saw another male; this one looked a lot like Mick and the other Sicarius males, his face free of tattoos. He shrugged out of a heavy parka. Ah, Nine must be another brother. Unlike her escort, this male gave her a small smile in greeting. These weren’t bad guys … they’d just been unlucky enough to be born into a nightmare.

  Stacey found a satellite photo with a smaller one inlayed into it shoved into her face. She pretended not to look at it and pushed it away. “I need to … umm … use the facilities.” He looked around. “Seriously … I need to pee.”

  “Over there.” He used his chin to indicate the line of palm trees that edged the stretch of beach. “We will avert our eyes, but you must remain where we can see you.”

  “Having my son kidnapped makes compliance my motto.” Stacey saw a flash of sympathy from both males. In full view of them between the trees, she slowly slid her pants down. True to their word they dropped their gazes. Stacey quickly wrote another single word into the dirt with her finger and covered it with one of the large palm leaves.

  “Okay, Scotty, now let me see where we’re beaming to.” She held her hand out to Nine as she returned to join them, studying it like she hadn’t seen it the first time, and gave them a nod.

  “Who’s Scotty?” Nine asked.

  Twelve barked out a short laugh. “Apparently you are. She calls me Hawk.” There was a ring of pride in his response. Stacey grinned; the males were moving into her corner, she could feel it.

  A psychic flutter in her maternal bond alerted her that whatever Osiris had done to tranquilize her son was starting to wear off. An urgent need to get to him before he woke fully, scared and surrounded by strangers, had her grabbing Twelve and Nine’s arms. Nine counted to three and they ported together.

  ****

  As the boat sped across the southern ocean, Osiris snapped his phone closed. He and his g
uards donned the heavy coats, hoods, and gloves they would need. The young, iron-rich Hulven female Osiris had selected from Frank’s compound in Haiti shivered, though both she and the tranquilized boy where covered from head to toe in winter gear and wrapped in a seal-skin blanket. “If that child freezes, I will kill you slowly,” Osiris warned.

  The only parts of the female visible were two light-blue eyes that widened with fear. Frank had assured him that Kelly did a good job of caring for the children in the breeding facility. She’d better. Johnny would have his mother soon enough asumingStacey didn’t do anything stupid. There would still be times when Johnny couldn’t be with his mother. After tests, medical evaluations, and trials, and after Osiris figured out what made Stacey capable of conceiving with a Hulven male, he’d dispose of her altogether so her maternal bond didn’t compete with the bond Osiris would establish with his grandson. With Stacey dead, Johnny would require Kelly’s full attention.

  Of the two locations Osiris had chosen, this was by far the better. The window of opportunity to utilize it had been rapidly closing, however. One more day before the sun set its final time. Then four months of darkness, storm-force winds, and cold so bitter not even Volaticus could survive the elements. The nearby land would be frozen at dry-ice temperatures to ensure that all Tellus remain thousands of feet beneath the land surface. A few schools of rogue Aquaties called this part of the ocean home. The Aquaties believed them to be human researchers. The Aquaties had long ago stopped being curious and left Osiris’s iceberg hideout in peace, even avoiding the area altogether since several of their members had been netted and captured by some human trappers Osiris had tipped off.

  The Aquaties had capsized a ship and killed a boat-full of trappers after the first two losses of their kind. Osiris had achieved his goal of making the Aquaties leery enough to steer clear of the few humans in their territory … him included. The real human researchers had abandoned the facility built on top of the iceberg a few weeks ago for the winter.