Closing the Circle (Guardians of the Pattern, Book 6)

by Jaye McKenna

  Miko unlocked it, and Rafe walked in. His expression was neutral, but the set of his shoulders gave away his tension.

  “Sorry to bother you,” Rafe said. “I needed to talk to you. Luka’s been handling my orientation, and we got to talking about instructor training. I was thinking that might be the best thing for me to do.”

  Miko was only half paying attention. Now that he knew for certain that Rafe was his brother, he couldn’t stop himself from asking the question that had been burning in his mind ever since Rafe had mentioned the dragons. “What was I like? Were we the same?”

  “No, we weren’t.” The tightness in Rafe’s shoulders loosened a little. “You saw things. Colors I didn’t have names for. Swirling lights everywhere, even when it was dark. And dragons. You saw dragons.”

  “I still do.” Miko caught his lower lip between his teeth. What did Rafe think of the dragons? Did he think Miko was crazy, like so many other people did?

  “You used to try to draw them for me.” Rafe’s eyes became distant, and the ghost of a smile played about his mouth. “You’d get so frustrated because you couldn’t make them look right. Then you tried to make mind-pictures to show me, but all they did was scare me.”

  “I made pictures in your mind?” Miko couldn’t imagine being that close to any mind other than Tarrin’s.

  “That was how we talked before we had words. And sometimes even after, because words weren’t always enough.” Rafe’s smile became harder, bitter. “When I was old enough to understand… I used to wonder sometimes if it was better that you’d died, because maybe you were crazy.”

  “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  Rafe’s black eyes were still distant, as if he was thinking hard, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make Miko hurt and bleed. “I think,” Rafe said slowly, “that you see things the rest of us can’t. It makes it hard for you to relate to everyone else. But it doesn’t make you crazy. If everyone else was blind, and you were the only one who could see… they’d think you were nuts when you tried to describe seeing to them. Same thing.”

  The relief that coursed through Miko surprised him. Why should it matter so much what Rafe thought? “Do you… do you know who our parents were?”

  “No. There was nothing about them in the files they gave Romani when he bought me.” Another thing they had in common. Rafe knew what it was to be property. To be valued only in terms of what you could do for the one who owned you.

  “I’m sorry I don’t remember.”

  “Me, too,” Rafe murmured. “Hurts like hell to look at you and not be able to feel you. In some ways, it was easier when I thought you were dead.”

  “It hurts me, too.” Miko stared down at the floor. “I feel the colors of pain dancing through your mythe-shadow.”

  “I hate that we hurt each other. We used to be…” Rafe trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut briefly. “You were all I ever had that was good.”

  Miko wrapped his arms tightly about himself. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. Finally, he settled on, “I wish I could remember.”

  Rafe shot him a doubtful look. “Wouldn’t change anything. We’d still hurt each other.”

  Miko didn’t say anything to that. There was nothing he could say, and nothing he could do.

  * * *

  Something was different.

  Draven knew it long before he opened his eyes. The noise in his head and the pain tearing through his body were gone. So was the craving. And the things crawling over his skin… they were gone, too, thank God.

  “Has he regained consciousness yet?” That was Cameron’s voice. The same voice that had threaded through the horror of the hallucinations, giving him something to focus on, a reason to hang on.

  “Not really,” said a female voice. “He’s been stirring for the past hour, but he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. Jaana was here first thing this morning. I would have woken you if anything was wrong, but she said everything looks good. He’s shielding on his own. She wrote up a quick report and sent it to you before she left.”

  There was a long pause before Cameron said, “How much longer will you be sticking around?”

  “I’ll stay through the night, but in the morning, you’re flying me back to campus. He’s stable enough to be left for a few hours. I’ll come out in a couple of days to check on him, bring you any supplies you might need, but the rest of it is up to him.” She paused, then added, “I’m going to head downstairs and fix some lunch. I want you to eat something before you head out to the campus.”

  “Thanks, Eleni.”

  Light steps crossed the room, followed by the sound of a chair being pulled up next to the bed. Draven shifted a little, noting that his limbs were no longer strapped down. Dim memories of struggling against restraints flitted through his mind, along with nightmare visions of things scrabbling over his skin and filling his mouth…

  He opened his eyes and waited for his vision to clear.

  The room looked vaguely familiar, with walls of warm, golden wood. Cold winter light poured in through the window, and beyond the glass, bare black branches scraped an overcast sky.

  “You’re safe,” Cameron’s voice said.

  Draven turned his head, forced himself to meet tired, dark brown eyes. “Am I?” he whispered.

  “Safe as I can make you, anyway. You’re in an isolated cabin north of the main campus of the Institute for Psionic Research. Only two other people know you’re here, and they’re both healers. I trust them to keep their mouths shut.”

  He stretched slowly, testing his limbs. Nothing hurt. Not even his head. His mind was quiet, his shield intact and working exactly the way it should.

  Cautiously, he adjusted his shielding pattern, letting the world in a little at a time. He sensed Cameron beside him: a solid core of responsibility, a touch of anxiety, a whisper of relief. Farther off was a cool, efficient mind dulled with fatigue and buzzing with worry.

  “Who…?”

  “My sister, Eleni. She’s the one who healed you.”

  “Psi as well? I can shield.”

  “That was Jaana, our mind-healer. She was here this morning. I just looked over her report. She said your psi-centers were damaged by psionic overload. She was able to… clear the channels and untangle the threads. That’s how she put it, anyway. She said as soon as she finished, you started shielding again, so she’s satisfied that everything’s working the way it should. And you’re through withdrawal. You won’t be needing riptide anymore.”

  “I remember.” He couldn’t quite suppress the shudder. “Never touching that stuff again.”

  “No.” A faint smile curved Cameron’s lips. “I didn’t imagine you would. I haven’t touched it since I was seventeen. One visit to hell is enough.” He picked up a water bottle full of green liquid. “Eleni says you need to drink this, and she wants you to try to eat something, too.” He gently worked the bottle’s straw between Draven’s lips without even asking.

  Draven sucked down the stuff. It was cool at least, but tasted odd. Not the sort of thing he’d have chosen. He drank about half of it before pushing it away.

  “Tell your sister thank you.”

  “You can tell her yourself. She’s not leaving until tomorrow.”

  “She’s good. As good as Trinian.”

  “Who’s Trinian?”

  “DeMira’s healer.”

  “Ah.” Cameron nodded. “The one who healed you so DeMira could hurt you again.”

  Draven froze. When had he…

  The memory slammed into his mind, the impact so hard it took his breath away. Words pouring out of his mouth, words he’d never spoken before, painting pictures he’d never wanted anyone to see…

  He’d shown those pictures to Cameron.

  And Cameron had held him while he cried.

  Other memories stirred. The way Cameron had taken care of him at the lodge, never leaving his side, even though it meant neglecting his responsibilities. The way he’d stayed with him th
rough the worst of the pain and the hallucinations, his voice a lifeline that stopped Draven from drowning in the screaming nightmares in his head.

  A hand came down on his shoulder. He didn’t flinch.

  Didn’t move.

  Didn’t know where he stood.

  “What happens next?” he whispered, not daring to meet those dark eyes that had seen far too much. Cameron may not have been inside his head, but he might as well have been.

  “You stay here and rest. Get your strength back. Eleni will be back to check up on you every few days.”

  And Cameron? Would he come, too? Draven didn’t quite dare ask that. Instead, he said carefully, “And after that?”

  “Then we’ll see. If you decide you want to stay, I might be able to find work for you.”

  Draven did look at him then. “What kind of work?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Cameron said, but it was a lie. Draven could see it in his eyes. Cameron knew exactly what kind of work he had in mind.

  “I could find out,” Draven told him.

  “I know you could. But you won’t.” Cameron’s eyes met his, held his gaze.

  “No. I won’t,” he whispered, and knew it was true. There was something between them now. Something that hadn’t been forged in fear or pain. Something Draven wasn’t sure he liked, but wasn’t sure he wanted to lose, either.

  Cameron stood up to leave, and another memory stirred.

  “Miko,” Draven whispered.

  “What about him?”

  “I met someone… on Lyra. Someone who was looking for him.”

  Cameron sighed and sat down again. “Someone meaning Rafe Azziani?”

  “How did you—?”

  “He’s at the campus. He found Miko. Or I should say, Miko found him. They’re brothers. Twins.”

  “Did you verify his story?”

  “I did.” Cameron tapped his head. “Right after he asked me for protection from Alan Romani.”

  The tightness eased a little, letting him breathe freely. “And Miko?”

  A shadow crossed Cameron’s face. “He’s… remote and inscrutable. As always. I think Rafe’s appearance has upset his sense of balance. He said… he said it wasn’t in the Pattern, and he can’t see Rafe’s thread. He doesn’t remember Rafe, but Rafe remembers him.”

  “Can I see him? Miko, I mean.”

  “I don’t see why not. He knows you’re here, and he’s been worried about you. I’ll see what I can do.” Cameron got to his feet. Draven didn’t stop him this time. Surprised at how much the short conversation had exhausted him, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

  * * *

  It was already dark when Cam got back to the cabin, where he found Eleni in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She was humming to herself as she worked, probably looking forward to getting back to the campus and Trevor. Guilt gnawed at him. He hadn’t meant to involve her at all, especially not to this extent.

  “Have I mentioned how much I appreciate you doing this?” he asked as he hung up his coat.

  “A couple of times. How are things back on campus?”

  “Tense. Have you heard the latest from Alpha?”

  “No, I’m afraid I haven’t had the time or the energy to keep up with current events.” She sounded tired. That was his fault, too.

  Cam dragged a hand through his hair as he sank down on a kitchen chair. “It only hit the news nets this morning. More rioting. The Alpha Senate has promised to pass an emergency resolution to protect the public from psions.”

  Eleni paused, knife poised over the onions she was chopping, and turned to look at him, dark eyes wide. “What kind of resolution?”

  “No word on that yet, but I’m sure we’ll be hearing about it when the next data-dump hits Aurora Station.”

  She set the knife down and wiped her hands. “What can they do? Realistically, I mean. It takes a psion to pick another psion out of a crowd.”

  Cam shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to know. Kyn’s not happy. He’s made it very clear that he wants me back on campus.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Eleni said. “Trevor mentioned the other day that he’s wound pretty tight.”

  “I know.” He hated leaving so much on Kyn’s shoulders. Hated even more that he couldn’t explain why.

  “He also said Pat’s worried about him, and has been asking where the hell you are and why you’re never in your office.”

  “Yeah. He’s been sending me messages every few hours asking me what the hell I’m working on that can’t be done on campus. How long do you think it’ll be before Draven’s strong enough to be left on his own?”

  “A week, maybe?”

  “That long?”

  “Yes, and that’s just for basic self-care. If you were asking when he’d be fit to return to work, I’d tell you a month at least, and that’s only if you’re talking about a desk job. Doing the sort of thing he does… two or three months. Maybe more. Depends on how hard he’s willing to work.”

  “Can you… speed up the process?”

  Eleni shot him a sour look. “I could.”

  “Would you?”

  “Only if you can give me a damn good reason why I should.”

  “Ah.” Cam stared down at the floor. “I won’t ask, then.”

  “Best not.” She turned back to her dinner preparations. “You’ve already pushed your luck about as far as it’ll go.”

  “I do appreciate it, Eleni. More than I can tell you.”

  Eleni kept her back to him, but she shook her head, and Cam could imagine her rolling her eyes, as well. “Make yourself useful and take some crackers and broth up to your patient. He needs to get started on solid food again.”

  “My patient?”

  “Your patient, and your problem, after tonight.” Eleni cocked her head, frowning and glancing up, and a moment later, Cam heard the drone of an approaching flyer. “Jaana?”

  “Not at this time of night,” he said grimly, and extended his psi-senses to sweep the area. “Pat. Shit.”

  Eleni wiped her hands on a towel and said, “I’ll take care of Draven. If this is FedSec business, then you won’t want me around. I’ll finish making dinner when you’re done.”

  Cam poured two mugs of coffee, then sat back down at the kitchen table and tried to organize his thoughts. He heard the flyer circle and come in for a landing in the clearing near the cabin.

  It wasn’t long before Pat came through the door. He stamped the snow off of his boots, hung up his coat with deliberate care, and turned to face Cam, fixing him with a penetrating stare.

  “You’ve got some explaining to do, Asada.”

  Cam took a long swallow of coffee. He’d need it; Pat was sharp, and this could easily blow up in his face if it wasn’t handled very carefully. “Who ratted me out?”

  “Nobody,” Pat said, taking a seat opposite him. “I followed you.”

  Cam pushed the second mug of coffee across the table to Pat, who picked it up a took a sip. “You followed me?”

  “This disappearing act you keep pulling is not like you. Especially with everything going on right now. What the hell, Cam? You’re hiding Draven?”

  It had been too much to hope that Pat might have forgotten the feel of Draven’s mind. Pat had been the arresting agent, after all. He’d been furious when Draven had managed to escape FedSec custody.

  Before Cam could respond, Pat continued, “Imagine my surprise to discover you harboring a wanted criminal. Imagine my further surprise to discover there’s nothing in the FedSec database on the guy. No record of his arrest, nothing connecting him with Jared Vidal’s death, which, by the way, was apparently logged as friendly fire. My arrest report has vanished, as have any records mentioning Draven’s presence and subsequent disappearance from a high-security FedSec medical facility. Miko’s doing, was it?”

  “Is this off the record? Or on?”

  Pat scowled. “Off, damn you.”

  “Then yes, that
was Miko. You can ask him about it if you want, but you’ll get the same kind of answer you usually do when Miko’s involved.”

  “The Pattern.”

  “Yep.”

  Pat stared down into his mug. “Do you even know how many laws you’re breaking?”

  “I’ve… got a pretty good idea.”

  “You’re putting me in a really difficult position, Cam. We’re both witnesses to Vidal’s death. We both know Draven pulled the trigger. My word is enough to haul him in for questioning, and if we pump him full of Veritane, I know I can get a conviction.” Pat lifted tired, shadowed eyes to meet Cam’s. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t arrest him right now.”

  “Because I’m asking you not to.”

  “Because you’re asking… Asking me as what? The director of the Institute? Or…?” Pat’s expression remained neutral, but Cam flinched at the intensity of the anger and betrayal lashing through the air between them.

  “As a man who’s trying to do his job,” Cam said flatly.

  He probably deserved the look of disbelief Pat shot him. “How delusional do you think I am?”

  “I don’t think you’re delusional. I just need you to… can you trust me on this? Just… back off, and let me do what needs to be done.”

  “You’re going to have to give me something more than that. I can nail him for Jared’s death right fucking now. I was there, and so were you and Kyn and Alek. So I ask you again: give me one reason why I shouldn’t arrest him. Or you, for that matter.”

  “Miko.”

  “Miko.” Pat sounded weary. “Of course. And I’m supposed to just forget about everything Draven’s done to our people. Rhys. Alek. Luka. Damon.”

  “I’m not insensitive to that. That’s why I didn’t bring him back to the campus, even though he needed medical attention. Eleni’s been out here with me for the past few days busting her ass to save him.”

  “Save him for what?” Pat’s voice had gone dangerously calm.

  “I’m… not entirely sure yet,” Cam admitted.