“Seriously?” She shook her head, trying to imagine what Earth would be like without the emotional and physical complications of obesity.
With a sexy smile still curving his lips, he walked back to the bed. “You need to rest, and I’d love to hold you. But as always, the choice is yours.”
Snuggling up in his arms while she slept sounded like heaven. She’d nearly died today, and really didn’t want to be alone. But would she be able to go to sleep with him wrapped around her? “And if I say no?”
“I’ll sleep on the floor. I’m not leaving you alone after what you’ve been through.”
His selflessness brought tears to her eyes and a lump to her throat. Her mother loved her unconditionally, but she’d never known anyone else who put her needs and desires above their own. Rather than force a verbal response past her tight throat, she folded back the covers and patted the mattress beside her.
He dimmed the lights with a voice command, then joined her in bed. He spread out on his back and she pressed against his side, head pillowed on his shoulder. He didn’t caress her or kiss her. He just held her, offering comfort and security while she slept.
* * * * *
Drex awakened bright and early the following morning, but Jenna was already gone. He tossed back the covers and activated the computer with a terse voice command. “Locate Jenna Fermont.”
“Jenna Fermont has departed the base.”
That surprised him. Jenna was curious by nature. She’d want to explore her surroundings, but had she been so upset by what they’d done the night before to run all the way back to Earth? And how had she gotten off the base? “Who authorized her departure?”
“General Lux.”
Damn. One of the guards must have found her wandering around and taken her to Sedrik, but why would Sedrik… She wasn’t a prisoner. If she asked for a ride back to Earth, of course Sedrik would arrange it. Morgan had agents waiting at Jenna’s house, ready to provide security until the negotiations concluded or the leaders of the Resistance Force were apprehended. There was no justifiable reason for refusing Jenna’s request.
Annoyed and discouraged, Drex stuffed his dirty clothes into the recycler then headed back to his cabin to shower and dress for the day. He’d imagined having a nice, friendly breakfast with her and then escorting her back to Earth.
“What is the current location of General Lux?” Drex asked after he’d finished his preparations.
“General Lux is in the officers’ dining hall,” the computer replied. “Would you like directions to that destination?”
“Negative. I know the way.”
The Triumphant was massive, more like a floating city than a ship. Drex had been aboard almost a month and he still lost his way occasionally. The officers’ dining hall, however, was a familiar destination. He’d taken many meals there even though he wasn’t technically an officer.
Sedrik Lux sat alone in one corner of the room, enjoying a hearty breakfast. This was a typical approach for the stoic soldier. He made himself accessible to his men, but remained separate from them. He was friendly and responsive to any issue, while never allowing anyone to forget that he was the ultimate authority in Earth-space.
Drex had been on the ship long enough for the crew to basically ignore him. For the first week or so, he drew curious stares wherever he went simply because he wasn’t in uniform. Now most knew who he was and that he was fighting, in his own way, in support of the rebellion.
After printing a large mug of civata brew at the bank of nutri-gen kiosks, Drex approached Sedrik’s table. “May I join you?”
“Of course.” He motioned toward one of the empty chairs. “Aren’t you eating?”
“Maybe later. I still feel a little off right now.”
“Understandable.” Sedrik slid his tray aside and focused on Drex. “I had no reason to detain her.” As usual, he easily anticipated the reason for Drex’s visit.
“I’m aware and I’m not angry. I’m just worried about her.”
“I verified that Morgan’s team was in place before I authorized the shuttle. She’ll be protected every step of the way.”
Drex nodded, then took a sip of the steaming beverage. “She was surrounded by guards, both human and battle born, yesterday and she still ended up in a regen unit.”
“We were blindsided,” Sedrik reminded. “It would be easy to blame Morgan. She knew about the Resistance Force and we didn’t. But I’d rather focus on strategy than pointless reflection. We need to safely conclude these negotiations as quickly as possible.”
“Have the humans agreed to relocate the sessions?”
“Yes, but not to one of our ships.” Sedrik didn’t sound pleased. “They suggested the Bunker as an alternate location and I reluctantly agreed.”
“The Bunker, Morgan’s headquarters? That’s still on Earth.”
“True, but there is no public access and the majority of the complex is underground. Raylon has been there before and he recommended accepting the proposal.”
Drex set down his mug with a sigh. “When will the sessions resume?”
“Tomorrow.”
“That’s too soon for Jenna. Dr. Mintell said she needs several days to rest.”
Sedrik chuckled. “She was pushing for this afternoon. That female is a force of nature. It will take more than bullets to bring her down.”
“Thank the gods,” Drex muttered under his breath. “I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”
“You didn’t seem frightened when you flew across the table. Was she suitably impressed with your heroics?”
Drex narrowed his gaze. “That’s not why I did it.”
“I wasn’t inferring it was. Bonding fever makes us all do crazy things.”
A certain catch in the general’s tone, made Drex ask, “Have you ever experienced the pull before?”
“Not personally, but I’ve watched how it transformed my brothers.”
He didn’t offer details, so Drex moved on. “Do you know what’s going on with the Outcasts? No one has seen or heard from them since L.A.” Arton, Sedrik’s oldest brother, had joined the band of mostly Rodyte mercenaries. In fact, Arton was second only to Overlord Kage Razel. But Sedrik and his younger brothers believed Arton was dead until recently. Needless to say, Arton’s relationship with his brothers was strained.
Sedrik shook his head. “They’ve either left the star system or they’re waiting for the right opportunity.”
“The right opportunity for what?”
After another head shake, Sedrik said, “No clue. I know they want transformation as badly as we do, but they don’t want a war with Earth. I don’t think they want a war with us either, but it’s hard to believe they just flew off without the formula or someone who knows how to make it.”
“I agree, which means they’re probably out there somewhere watching and waiting.”
Sedrik chuckled. “You make them sound like stalkers.”
Drex shrugged off the criticism. “I only know the Outcasts by reputation. You’re the one with a tangible connection to them.”
“Arton doesn’t qualify as any sort of connection. The brother I knew died long ago. I know nothing about Arton the Heretic.”
Drex knew enough about the situation to let the subject drop. “What about your search for… What was her name? I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten.”
“Rebecca Dayton,” Sedrik supplied. Rebecca had been named in one of the human propaganda videos. The video showed the horrendous mutation and agonizing death of a human female and the narrator claimed that woman was Rebecca Dayton. The battle born had learned that she was still alive, but they were having trouble locating her. If they could find her, it would cast doubt on the damning video. “She’s slick as a Bilarrian slime eel. The hardest person to locate is someone who doesn’t want to be found, and it’s obvious that she doesn’t.”
“So much has happened since that video was released, it’s doubtful her reappearance would have much effect.”
“I agree, but it’s a challenge now. General Sedrik Lux will not be bested by a human female.”
Drex laughed. “That’s a motivation any Rodyte male can understand.” Pushing back from the table, Drex stood. “Well, thanks for the update. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Be ready to depart bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Acknowledging the directive with a nod, Drex left the officers’ dining hall and returned to his cabin for a day of research and frustration.
* * * * *
Dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved sweater, Jenna descended the main stairs in the house she shared with her mother unsure what she wanted to do with the unexpected day off. Drex told her to rest and regain her strength, but inactivity was her enemy. Lying around, watching movies or reading a book, would invite memories and emotions she wasn’t ready to process. It was better if she avoided thinking about the night before all together.
The house was oddly quiet, peaceful yet empty. She went to the kitchen and exhaled when she found Fatima, their cook/housekeeper, hard at work mixing some sort of batter. “Fatima, has my mom been down yet?”
“Down and gone,” Fatima explained with a warm smile. Good natured and incredibly accomplished, Fatima had been preparing a wide variety of cuisines and culinary treats for the past three years. Both Jenna and Lenore were thrilled to have her. “She had some sort of meeting, said she’d be gone all day.”
Her mother was on the board of several charities, as well as belonging to a bridge club. She’d never had an actual job, but she kept herself busy. “Thanks.” She turned to go, but Fatima stopped her.
“Do you want some breakfast?”
She started to refuse then realized she was famished. “As soon as you’re finished with that.” She nodded toward the batter.”
“The usual?”
“That would be great. I’ll be in the library.”
“Oh, Doctor Fermont, someone named Morgan sent over a small army of mean-looking suits.”
“Morgan? Do you mean Morgan Hoyt?” Jenna had heard about Morgan for years, but hadn’t actually met her until the tribunal. When had her taskforce become involved?
Fatima shrugged as she dried her hands on a dishtowel. “Their leader only said Morgan. They stay outside and operate in shifts. I figured it was because of the attack.”
“I’m sure it is, but no one said anything to me about it.” Of course, she had left the Triumphant rather suddenly. Who was she kidding, she ran away like a frightened little girl.
Meandering down the hall, she went to the library. The book-lined room also served as her home office. She slipped in behind her desk with a sigh. She really needed to talk to her mother. Yesterday had left her feeling vulnerable and uncertain in a way she’d never experienced before. The attack would make anyone feel vulnerable, but waking up in Drex’s arms with his scent in her nose and his taste in her mouth had been even more unsettling. With one kiss and a few caresses, he’d turned her into a moaning, writhing mess. How in the world could she resist someone with that sort of power over her?
You have that sort of power over him too.
She shook her head with a hopeless smile. Now her inner voice was going to play devil’s advocate? She needed someone to reassure her and help reinforce her determination to maintain control of her future, not point out the obvious.
Fatima arrived with her breakfast a short time later. Jenna hated to eat alone. At least she didn’t have to do so often. She read through her email and a couple of news feeds while she munched on the veggie-filled egg white omelet. She hadn’t expected to find much regarding the Resistance Force. Their website and social media pages had been deactivated by the government. However, with some digging, she found blog posts and social media streams that referred to them, reposting their propaganda. The rhetoric was typical hate group bullshit, but it was obvious they were rapidly gaining momentum.
Their leader called himself or herself Abaddon. The name seemed familiar to Jenna, but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard it before. She entered it into a search engine and explored the results for the next half hour. According to the Bible, the name represented doom and gloom, scorpion armies and endless death. Abaddon was also the character in a video game and a popular television show. Unfortunately, the information brought Jenna no closer to this Abaddon’s actual identity.
She’d barely finished eating when a man she’d never met knocked on the open library door. He spoke in a deep, calm voice before she could panic. “Doctor Fermont, a slightly disheveled woman is here to see you. She said her name is Thea Cline. She’s unarmed. Shall I let her in?”
First things first. “And you are?” Fatima had called them mean suits and the description fit perfectly. Though dressed in a business suit, his perfect posture and hyper-alert demeanor screamed military.
“Foster, ma’am. Director Hoyt dispatched me and my team to protect you. You’d not yet returned when we arrived.”
She nodded. It would have been nice if someone asked if she wanted a security detail, but she wasn’t opposed to the idea. “Thea is probably a reporter. Is she alone?”
“Yes, ma’am. She arrived alone in a common sedan. We searched her car and found nothing of interest. I don’t believe she’s a threat, but I’d be happy to send her on her way.”
Reporting on the attack was already being sensationalized. It was too late to control the narrative, but it couldn’t hurt to add a little balance to the drama. “Show her in, but stay close. I suspect she won’t be here long.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“And drop the ma’am nonsense. It makes me feel ancient.”
“Yes, Doctor Fermont.” He inclined his head, then went to fetch her mystery guest.
She wasn’t sure “Doctor Fermont” was better, but she knew his type. There was no way he’d agree to call her Jenna. She’d attempted to rid Fatima of the formality and failed. Of course, it didn’t help that her mother expected to be addressed with “the proper respect”. Why money automatically equated to respect when a person had done nothing to earn either, Jenna would never understand.
Foster returned a short time later with Thea Cline. As he’d said, Thea was a little scruffy yet appeared nonthreatening. Still, after nearly losing her life during a complete blindside, Jenna couldn’t help feeling wary. “Professionals generally ask for an interview before showing up at my front door.” She didn’t have the patience to pretend this wasn’t unusual.
Thea was of average height, with a curvy build, blonde hair French braided down the back of her head, and dark brown eyes. “I’m not a reporter.”
Jenna tensed and Foster moved into her line of sight. He was still in the corridor, but he was clearly following the conversation. “Then why are you here.”
“I came to apologize.” She sounded nervous and she kept glancing toward the half-open door. “You were not the target yesterday. We’re really sorry you were caught in the crossfire.”
Foster stepped just inside the doorway, his hand now covering his sidearm. “Shall I escort her out?”
Jenna shook her head, but her gaze remained on Thea’s flushed face. “Who are you?”
“I told you. My name is—”
“I don’t care about your name. Who sent you?” She knew the answer. She just needed to hear the nervous messenger say the word.
“I answer to Abaddon, but we’re all very sorry about your injuries.”
Jenna glared as memories of the attack made her chest ache. “There’s that ‘we’ again.” Before Thea could guess her intent she motioned Foster forward. “Help her find a seat and ensure she stays in it.”
Foster pulled his weapon and urged Thea onto a nearby chair. Standing in front of the intruder, he casually covered her with the pistol.
“She’s probably not going to like this,” Jenna said, knowing it would intimidate Thea. “Make sure she stays put.”
“Copy that.”
The phrase was further
proof that he had a military background. Trying not to be distracted by the detail, she moved to Thea’s side and took a deep breath. Psychic impressions could be subtle, like ethereal dreams. They could also overwhelm with brutal intensity. Unfortunately, she never knew what to expect when she released the shields around her Sensitivity.
She reached down and grabbed Thea’s wrist. The young woman gasped and tugged against her hold, but Jenna didn’t let go. She closed her eyes, centered her energy, and waited. It only took a moment for the first impression to reach Jenna’s mind. She saw Thea sitting beside three coffins one full-size, two smaller. Tears flowed unchecked down her pale face as a minister droned on about eternal peace and heavily reunions. Emotions accompanied the image, but they were muted, obviously echoes of Thea’s devastation.
Using all her control, Jenna tried to focus the impressions on Abaddon or other members of the Resistance Force. Knowing Thea’s motivation was important, but she claimed to be only a messenger.
Jenna poured energy into the link created by their touch, hoping to stimulate the transfer. It worked a little too well. Images and emotions inundated Jenna with staggering intensity. She held her mind open despite the pain, absorbing everything she could. She shook, groaned, then helplessly sank to her knees.
“Are you all right?” Foster shifted to the side, grasping her upper arm.
Thea jerked free and sprinted for the door.
Foster immediately released Jenna’s arm and spun around, gun raised and aimed at Thea’s back.
“Let her go. She’s not important.”
After a momentary hesitation, Foster lowered his weapon and relaxed his stance.
“Visitor is departing. Should we detain?” a voice came over the radio at Foster’s side.
He unhooked the radio from his belt and responded, “Negative, but get the license plate number of her car.”
“Already recorded.”
“Copy that.”
Jenna crawled onto the chair Thea had just vacated. She rested her head against the high back and closed her eyes as she breathed through the nausea.
Defiant (Battle Born Book 13) Page 6
