by Theresa Kay
“Stand up, Jasmine,” another familiar voice says. “Slowly.”
I rise to my feet and turn to face Dane. Daniel stands beside him, a smug look on his face and a gun pressed to Flint’s head.
“Let. Him. Go.” I say. My teeth are clenched, and that fiery rage laps at the edges of the words, waiting for me to let it loose.
“There’s no need to be hostile. I’m simply taking back what’s mine.” Dane sneers at Flint. “And that includes my wayward son.”
Before getting here, I’d planned to make nice with Dane. I’d planned to ask for his help. Why did I ever think that would work? That was a stupid idea. All I can see now is the metal touching my friend’s temple. My eyes narrow, and I allow a splash of red hot anger to dance along my fingertips. Where the control is coming from, I have no clue. Maybe the newly restored bond? Maybe my simple determination? It doesn’t matter. I welcome the flames. “I will kill you.”
There’s no fear or confusion or anything on Dane’s face—just a slowly spreading smile. “I see you’ve learned some new tricks. Maybe you can finally be of some use to me.”
How does he know? The question gives me pause, and my lock on the darkness stutters in the face of my confusion.
“No!” shouts Flint. “She can’t control it. I told you that.”
He told Dane that? When? My gaze shifts to my friend.
Daniel is not as stupid as his chosen leader. When my eyes find his, fear draws the color from his face, and he takes a step back, dragging Flint with him.
Bad idea. The movement speaks to the feral part of me that lives in darkness, the part that’s feeding on my fear for my brother. The control I thought I had? Gone. My lips twist into a snarl. My knees bend. My weight shifts forward.
“Jax.” I whirl on the voice and find Gavin beside me, his dark eyes boring into mine. “This isn’t you.”
A muttered “crazy bitch” from Daniel causes me to move to attack, but an arm wraps around my waist and another reaches around my shoulders, pulling me back, holding me back. And words brush past my neck and into my ear. The thing inside me rears back and goes to strike at my restraints—get them off get them off get them off—but the rest of me knows those arms, knows that voice speaking calmly against my skin. It’s a friend who holds me. A friend I will not hurt.
Lir’s words from the dream filter in: breathe through it. One breath in and one breath out. And repeat. Gradually, I push it away and relax back against Gavin as the tension leaves my limbs. Weakness floods into my legs. I slump down, sliding through Gavin’s arms as he deposits me in a chair.
“Do you understand now?” Flint asks, still in Daniel’s hold. “She has no control over it. Not a very effective weapon when it can be easily trained on you with barely a blink.”
Dane shakes his head. “If she values your life and hers, she’ll learn.” He addresses Gavin next. “You think yourself brave because you managed to weasel your way in here, but you’ve lost focus, and while you were here this morning, my people have taken yours. Despite your… interventions, if you tread carefully, you and your men might survive this. This is my town, and it will continue to be, but I have no desire to battle your superiors.”
More men file in through the front door, fanning out behind Dane. He jerks his head toward our group. “Lock them up with the others.” His eyes come back to me and a smile slithers onto his face. “And if the redhead so much as twitches funny, kill them all.”
THE SOUND OF A fist pounding against a door floods Rym’s residence, and my eyes fly open. It seems someone has finally come for me. What utterly awful timing. The things needed to implement our plan are not in place, and my head is still spinning with all the new information I received from Jax. From Jax—the bond! If Vitrad takes me now, he could use it against her.
I quickly push myself up from the bed, stride to the bedroom door, and place one ear against it. Nothing. Even the pounding has stopped. Perhaps I was mistaken about the origin of the sound?
The room goes dark. With the electric shades drawn, it is nearly pitch black. Not even the plate that opens the door is lit up. Could they be using a power disrupter?
When my eyes adjust, I find my way back to the bed and pick up my discarded shirt, then tug it over my head. Next come my boots. I much prefer to face whatever is coming completely clothed. But without power, there is no way for me to exit the room, at least not without alerting them to my presence, so I roll under the bed and turn my head toward the door. I wait. It is foolish to hope that they will not check thoroughly, but it is hope all the same.
A click. The lights flicker on as the door slides open. Rym walks in, followed by two or three others, males if their footwear is any indication. I can see little more than their feet and legs, so I am unable to determine their lineage or get a glimpse of their faces. But I can see that they are not members of the Vi’askari, as they are not in uniform. Their presence does not surprise me—someone was bound to come for me eventually, whether to arrest me again or use me for their own agenda—but the purpose and allegiance of this group is unclear. That worries me. Who are they, and why have they come here?
“As I told you when you so rudely interrupted my beauty sleep, my cousin is not here,” Rym announces loudly. He walks further into the room and turns. I now see the metal cylinder one of the males has pressed against Rym’s lower back. A pulse stick. It is a smaller version of the ones typically installed on our ships, but it would be enough to disable Rym’s kitu if it was engaged.
The male behind my cousin makes a mocking noise deep in his throat and pushes the pulse stick harder into Rym’s back. “Then why are you bothering to speak out loud?”
I wince, but Rym laughs away the comment. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about me,” he says, the words dragging together into a more human-like accent. “I’m my father’s greatest disgrace. The E’rikon who tries to act human. I’ve gotten used to using my vocal cords, so… yeah.”
I inhale slowly. Rym’s argument started out well, but it did not end that way.
“Besides,” Rym continues, “I don’t like strangers in my head and I wanted to be considerate of your two human friends.”
Humans? Here?
There is a thud and the sound of someone’s breath being knocked out of them. The male behind my cousin stumbles back a step, but he neither releases his grip nor lowers the weapon.
He grabs Rym’s wrist and twists his arm behind his back. “Where is the girl?”
“Girl?” The surprise in Rym’s voice mimics that in my head.
Another voice speaks up. “Karo, knock it off. This’ll be much easier if he wants to help us.” A set of feet passes through the doorway and into my line of vision, stopping in front of my cousin. “Where’s Jax?”
“Jax?” Rym’s voice all but cracks on her name.
The speaker steps closer. “Yeah. You know, pretty redhead. E’rikon-human hybrid… From the reports we’ve gotten, last seen with you, and, interestingly enough, tied to your cousin.”
Rym clears his throat. “Uh…”
The one speaking must make some motion, for the other male releases my cousin and takes a step back. The speaker continues, “Look, I know her. I’m trying to help. We’re trying to help.”
“Who exactly are you?” asks Rym.
A gruff voice speaks up from near the doorway. “I’m her father.”
What? How is that possible? I assumed he was dead, and I am sure Jax does as well.
The bed lowers slightly as Rym sits down. “And why should I trust you are telling the truth? You are human; I cannot link with you. It is not like I have ever seen you before. I barely know Jax, and she has never spoken of her father to me.”
Rym’s words are clearly meant for me. I do not even know her father’s name, but I have seen enough of Jax’s memories to be able to identify him. Even if what he says is true, how do I know for certain this group is here to help? I would have to leave my hiding place based upon nothing but the faith
that these people may be allies. I suppose it does not much matter when I will have to come out of here eventually anyway. May as well do it under my own power.
I slide out from under the bed opposite where Rym’s legs hang down and slowly rise to my feet.
The tall, dark-haired man who had been lounging against the doorframe straightens. His hazel eyes narrow as he looks me up and down. It is odd to me that he has no hint of red in his hair, but Jax has those eyes, along with his nose and chin.
“He is who he says,” I tell Rym.
“Great,” a male voice says. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way: where the hell is Jax?” My gaze goes to the speaker—the second human. He is younger than Jax’s father and brown-haired, with a long scar twisting one side of his face.
I scan the other two faces in the room with us. Both have the dark hair and eyes of muddled heritage, but not from lineages I recognize offhand. They are, however, clearly E’rikon, and quite a bit older than me. Could they be from one of the factions who split off when we first arrived? Part of the original team? Or simply working from inside the city to assist the humans? But why?
The younger human eyes me and then turns to Jax’s father. “That’s the cousin,” he says. “The one she ran off from Bridgelake with.”
Jax’s father sends another assessing look my way.
I shuffle my feet then walk around the bed and hold my hand out to him. “Steliro… Vestra… Sir.”
He glances at my extended hand and his eyebrows rise. “Not exactly an E’rikon greeting.”
“I have had the opportunity to observe human customs and,” I shrug, “if you know anything about the situation, you know I am not exactly much of an E’rikon without my kitu.”
He takes my hand with a firm grip. “Name’s Adam. Where is my daughter?”
I shake my head. “She is not here. After everything… she returned a few days ago for perhaps an hour, but she had to be gone again before my uncle arrived.”
Adam releases my hand and glances at the younger human. “Matt, I thought your information was recent.”
The question worries me. From whom have they been getting information, and for how long?
“So did I,” says the young man. He presses his lips together. “How do we know he’s telling the truth? Maybe she’s locked up somewhere? I’ve heard their scientists like to… experiment on human subjects.”
Rym rolls his eyes and huffs. “My cousin may not be able to link with your friends here, but I can.” He holds out his arm to them. “Go on then. See for yourself.”
The male who held the pulse stick on my cousin steps closer and reaches toward Rym’s arm, but Adam waves him off. “Not necessary. I believe him.”
Every face in the room, including my own, looks toward him in confusion. He motions to the two E’rikon. “Karo, Linx, please go stand guard at the door.”
The younger human, Matt, is the first to speak. “What? Why?”
Rather than addressing Matt’s questions, Adam studies me. An appraisal. His voice is soft and tinged with suspicion. “I heard you were a help to my daughter. Why?”
I meet his eyes and simply say, “To protect her.”
His eyes narrow slightly, but then he lowers his chin in a nod. Approval. “Do you know where she is?”
My gaze darts to Rym, and I lift one eyebrow in question. This man may be her father, but he is also the man who deserted her, and I am not certain whether he can be trusted.
Rym looks puzzled by my silence, knowing full well I have the most recent information. Then he says, “Last I saw them, they were headed back to the priest’s house.” He carefully observes my expression as each word passes his lips. I blink and lower my chin a fraction, signaling him to continue. “I do not believe they had any place else to go. Not with Jace’s injury.”
“Them? She’s with her brother?” Adam’s eyes widen.
“Yes. And the blond one. Flint. I believe.”
Matt’s whole body tenses. “The group Dane sent out caught up with her? Is Daniel there too?”
Rym shrugs. “I do not know. I only saw the one.”
“They were there,” I say. “I do not know if they still are, but I do not believe so. Flint is a friend to her, but the others are not, and I doubt Peter would have let them stay.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Matt exhales slowly. “Flint Jacobs is no friend to her. His father—”
“Is not him,” interrupts Rym. There is a bite to the words, and it is unclear to me whether he is defending the human or himself. “I have met him and witnessed his protectiveness for her. Jax is many things, but she is not an imbecile. If he were a threat, she would have recognized that.”
Dread twists my stomach into a knot. I truly believe Flint is a friend, but Jax does not always recognize threats, even those right in front of her. “She trusted Jastren,” I whisper. “Almost blindly.”
“Jastren?” Adam’s voice rises in surprise. “The Reva sire?”
“Yes,” I say, the words rushing out despite my reservations. “Jace is with him at Peter’s. Jax is in Bridgelake.”
“What the hell is she doing in Bridgelake?” Matt snaps before heading toward me. “I went through so much trouble to get her out of there.”
What could he possibly be talking about? Did he know her from Bridgelake? That is highly doubtful, knowing her distrust of strangers and males in general. I raise one eyebrow. “What trouble did you go through? I was the one who assisted her in leaving.”
He advances closer, a snarl on his face. “You mean you got yourself caught and threw my timetable all to hell. We had it all planned out and then you show up and spirit her off before I can tell her what’s really going on. I was coming for her and you slipped right out under my goddamn nose.”
What? And then the realization hits. “The guard at the gate.” He winces and jerks his chin up. It is answer enough. This one has killed to protect her. Perhaps I should trust them after all. Jax needs all the people looking out for her she can get. “She… has friends there,” I say. “She made a promise to return.”
Matt and Adam share a look.
“When did you last hear from her?” asks Adam. “Did she say anything about the… situation in Bridgelake?”
“Not much,” I reply. “She said Dane had been ‘ousted’ and there was someone new in charge.”
Adam runs his hand over his face and shakes his head. “How long do we have?” The question is directed at Matt, who shrugs. Adam releases a long, slow breath and paces across the room. When he reaches the wall, he curses and slams his palm against it. “Dammit!”
The edges of Rym’s mouth quirk up. “Ah, so that’s where she gets it.” Every eye turns, narrowed. Rym throws his hands up. “Just trying to lighten the mood a bit. Besides, I don’t have any idea what the issue is or”—he lowers his voice in an imitation of Matt—“‘what’s really going on.’” His expression hardens. “Is the city in danger? My cousin? Jax? Somebody please enlighten us.” The final words pass through clenched teeth with more than a hint of irritation.
I step back to stand next to my cousin. “Rym is correct. Enough with the half answers. Would someone please explain why you are here and what is going on? It is only a matter of time before Vitrad discovers a… breach in the city’s defenses? And tracks you here.”
Matt shakes his head. “There was no breach in the defenses. We’ll be in and out and Vitrad will be none the wiser.”
“That’s impossible,” mutters Rym.
“Nothing is impossible,” says Adam. He pulls up his sleeve to display a thin silver band around his wrist. Narrower than a kitu, but seemingly of a similar material. “The E’rikon have always underestimated human intelligence and technology.” His voice softens and a wistful look crosses over his face. “I had years—and inside information—to figure out a way around some of your obstacles.”
“Is that…? Would that…?” Hope clogs my throat, and I take a step forward with my hand out.
Could that simple band solve all our problems?
Adam’s brow furrows for a moment. Then his face falls and he drops his arm. “No. It wouldn’t replace a kitu,” he says. “It only allows Matt and I to pass through your barrier. The metal was scavenged from one of your ships and—”
My next inhalation is a hiss. Scavenged? Does that mean Jace was simply… taking up the family business? I take a step back, pushing down the anger creeping into my body as I look at that sliver of metal in a new light. Tension fills my body and my hands curl into fists at my sides.
Adam holds one hand up. “It’s not what you’re thinking. It was an E’rikon ship, yes. But not one of yours. It was from before. One of the original arrival vessels. Lyn…” His voice trails off and he presses his lips together and absently runs one finger over the metal. He appears to shake himself out of his memories and swiftly changes the subject. “You said Jace was with the Reva sire. His… grandfather, I suppose. How is he outside the barrier? I thought the”—he closes his eyes and bites his lip as if searching for the correct word— “emhasin would prevent that since he’s essentially without a kitu.”
Rym turns to me with raised eyebrows and widened eyes. I am sure my face displays the same. Adam is unaware that Jax—and most likely Jace or any other Halfling—can act somewhat as a… substitute for the kitu. But exactly how much does this human know about us? About why we are here? About what happened back on Rikonos?
“Didn’t expect me to know so much, huh? Just another stupid human?” His tone is good-natured, but his eyes are hard. “I get it. Jax and Jace get a pass from you all because of what they are, but God forbid a human knows the truth of it all.” He straightens and steps forward. “Tess—Tessyna to y’all, the twins’ grandmother—told me all about the high and mighty E’rikon and the cleansing as she lay dying in my lab. With her last breath she begged me to protect her daughter Jaslyn. You see, when your people… castrated Jastren’s abilities and then started wiping out those abilities the higher-ups didn’t like, Jastren decided to tweak his unborn child’s genetics, not knowing that the plan was already in motion to send his bondmate to Earth. Those enhancements of yours… well, Jaslyn had some that, as young as you are, you’ve probably never seen. You can’t have been more than ten Earth years old during the exodus, right?”
