Alpha Hunter

by Cyndi Friberg

  She paused to soak in the picturesque view before turning her back to the windows. Jagged mountains rose into the turquoise sky, each unique yet similar. “It seems very secluded from this side. How do visitors who can’t teleport arrive?”

  “There are two roads leading up from opposite valleys, but the lodge is much easier to reach from the air. If a large assembly needs Drakkin, he usually goes to them. Now, enough procrastination.” He patted the couch beside him so she sat. “You know how to insinuate your being into a person’s mind. Accessing a memory is basically the same. Obviously, your own memories will be the easiest for you to access, so we’ll start there. Pick an event that you wouldn’t mind revisiting.”

  Without conscious thought the day they’d met popped into her mind.

  He smiled, clearly pleased by her choice. “All right. Rerun the events from your perspective and then see if you can hop to mine.”

  The skills she had already learned allowed her to accomplish the task within minutes. She ran the events forward and back as if she were watching a recording. Switching to Blayne’s mind took more concentration, but she managed on her first try.

  Suddenly the time stream sucked her under like the raging current of a storm-swollen stream. She cried out and reached out blindly, but it was as if her body no longer existed. Darkness closed in around her, consuming everything in its path—sound, sensation, and rational thought.

  I’m here, Angie. Don’t be afraid. You’re having a vision.

  The assurance did little to alleviate her fear. She wasn’t having a vision; the vision was having her! She flowed along in the inky current, powerless to slow the pull or set her course. She was helpless, useless, yet again.

  Light flickered in the distance and hope flared within her heart. Anything was better than this endless blackness.

  Images separated from the shadows, sounds echoed through the stillness, muted laughter and the ever-present thumping of a bass drum. She smelled cigarette smoke and something cloying and sweet. Then a scene unfurled in the distance and she went wild. Not this! She did not want to relive that night. Anything but this.

  There’s a reason for every vision. These events cannot hurt you now.

  Then leave! I don’t want you to see… A harsh sob shut down her voice as terror paralyzed her brain.

  I will never leave you, but I’ll pull you out long before they hurt you again.

  She wasn’t sure she believed him. No one had been there to save her back then. Why should it be any different now? But his assurance calmed her enough so she could think. If every vision had a purpose, she needed to figure out what this was trying to show her so she could get the hell out of here.

  She floated into the party, but she was an onlooker rather than a participant. She easily spotted her younger self and shame threatened to choke her. With all that makeup and a low-cut top, she looked years older than fifteen. She laughed and provoked the three young men gathered around her chair. She didn’t want to see their faces, didn’t want to think about where this scene led.

  If you let me see them, I can find out who they are.

  Terrified he’d try and fail, yet just as tortured by the possibility that he’d succeed, she hesitated. She hadn’t known them, hadn’t known where to start even if she’d wanted to hunt them down. She’d been a helpless fifteen-year-old, still reeling from her mother’s death. Blayne was a Master Level mage with serious connections. So you identify them, then what? Have them arrested and take them to court? No way I’m putting myself through that.

  You’re Ontarian and Ontarian laws are different than the laws on Earth. We have no tolerance for abusers of women.

  Unadulterated hate blasted through her system, chilling her from the inside out. She turned around, but Blayne hadn’t materialized. His fury left her even more uncertain of what she wanted to do. If this is going to change you, I’d rather leave it in the past.

  He calmed. She could feel warmth gradually erode his rage. I will not allow this to change me, but it cannot go unavenged. What they did was inexcusable.

  A thought occurred to her and her hands closed into fists. Did you trigger this vision? Did you bring me here so I could—

  No. Conviction and honesty rang through the word. I would never do that to you.

  She took a deep breath and crossed the room, skirting her attackers until she stood next to her younger self. She blocked out their conversation, refusing to think about what would soon happen. Instead she let Blayne’s determination give her strength and she calmly looked at each man’s face. She soaked in every detail without allowing her emotions to respond. When she was sure she had an accurate image of each villain’s face, she sensed the cord binding her to the past and severed it once and for all.

  Chapter Seven

  “I don’t believe this!” Sevrin spun around and punched the dingy wall of the motel room. The impulse split the skin across her knuckles and dented the drywall, but she hadn’t even managed to create a hole. Oh to have the strength and speed of one of those cursed men!

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Porffer muttered. “I really thought we were on to something this time.”

  “She was fine yesterday. What the hell happened?” At least this one hadn’t mutated into a twisted carcass barely identifiable as human. The replicated formula seemed to have worked. The test subject went through a sort of metamorphosis and immerged with some very un-humanlike abilities. Then for no apparent reason, she collapsed four hours ago and Porffer hadn’t been able to resuscitate her.

  “Respiratory failure. That’s all I know without an autopsy.”

  Sevrin pulled up the blinds and looked out across the dilapidated parking lot. “So do we try again or go back to working with one of the men?”

  Porffer looked incredibly uncomfortable as she debated the alternatives. “Live specimens have always been our best option, but the men are so volatile. Just having them around is a continual distraction.”

  Sevrin laughed. “Would they be less distracting if one were seeing to your needs? When’s the last time you had a lover?”

  Porffer’s chin came up and her gaze narrowed. “I am capable of taking care of all of my physical needs. I find those men uncouth and obnoxious.”

  “Sure you do.” She ambled closer to Porffer, amused by the chink in her armor. “Which one is the most uncouth and obnoxious, in your opinion?”

  “Nazerel, without doubt.”

  No one would argue with her there. Unfortunately, getting Nazerel to cooperate regarding anything was next to impossible. “Anyone else you find particularly loathsome?”

  For a long time Porffer fiddled with the hem of her lab coat. Sevrin didn’t think she was going to answer and then she said, “I don’t know his name.”

  “Is he part of the team guarding you or one of the Shadow Assassins?”

  Porffer glanced at her, clearly understanding their game. “He accompanies Zach each time Zach visits you. He hasn’t worn a shirt all week because he had one of those obscene marks applied beneath his skin. As if his overdeveloped physique wasn’t distasteful enough.”

  Sevrin chuckled. She wasn’t sure which one of the Shadow Assassins discovered tattoos, but they were all obsessed with them now. Every time she turned around someone was harassing her for cash so they could have ink drilled into their flesh. It was barbaric and incomprehensible to her, but it was keeping them occupied. And each man was sent to the tattoo artist with an audio/visual transceiver to make sure he didn’t run his mouth about anything humans weren’t allowed to know.

  “What does the mark look like?” she asked Porffer.

  “A massive feline predator with a striped coat.”

  “Tiger,” Sevrin supplied. “And his name is Alex. I’ll make sure he stays away from you.”

  Porffer’s brows drew together as if she’d object, then she shrugged and turned back to the report she’d been writing when Sevrin arrived.

  “I’ll allow the hunt to resume under strict limitations
. And as soon as a conversion has been confirmed, I’ll send the couple to you.”

  Porffer glanced up and nodded. “Understood.”

  “I was really hoping it wouldn’t be necessary, but I think it’s time to call for reinforcements.”

  That got the good doctor’s attention. She powered down her datapad and pivoted toward Sevrin. “I’m doing everything I can to—”

  “This isn’t a reflection on you. I suspect that the men’s nanites are part of the problem. I need someone who can analyze and adjust their programing. You’re a geneticist.”

  “I understand.”

  “It will take several weeks for the new team to arrive, so continue on until they do.”

  “May I ask a question?” Porffer averted her gaze again.

  “Of course.”

  “Didn’t your uncle require a communication blackout as a condition of his approval?”

  Sevrin chuckled. “I’m not afraid of Uncle Quentin.”

  “He is also Crown Stirate Keire and their actions don’t always correspond.”

  “What’s he going to do? Ground me?” Sevrin shrugged. ”He wants this almost as much as I do. He just doesn’t want to be bothered with the details.”

  A ghost of a smile parted Porffer’s lips. “Well, I’ll pray that your message reaches Uncle Quentin rather than Crown Stirate Keire.”

  “Either way, I’ll get what I want. I always do.” Sevrin grinned and headed for the door.

  She spotted Alex in the shade near the far corner of the building. He was attempting to look busy and, as Porffer had predicted, he was shirtless. She motioned him over and enjoyed his loose-limbed swagger as he approached.

  “Mistress?”

  He was blond, which was unusual for the Shadow Assassins. His lean build, predatory grace and sharp-eyed stare, however, easily identified his place of origin. “I have a problem I need you to solve.”

  “I’m always at your disposal.” He leaned his forearm against the wall and stared down at her with shimmering blue-ringed eyes. “Just name it and it’s yours.”

  “Dr. Porffer is having trouble concentrating and I believe I’ve discovered the cause.”

  “Dr. Porffer.” His eagerness evaporated and he lowered his arm. “If you mean what I think you mean, I’d be afraid of breaking her. She’s nothing but skin and bones—and bad attitude. Does she even like men?”

  “She mentioned that you hadn’t been wearing your shirt because of your new tattoo. Does that sound like someone who’s oblivious to men? You in particular?”

  He glanced off into the distance then heaved a frustrated sigh. “Is she expecting me?”

  “No. In fact, she’ll likely pretend to be outraged by your interruption. If you play this right, it could be fun.”

  “Until I snap her like a twig or dislocate her hip.”

  Sevrin laughed at the mental image his grumbling words produced. Porffer was painfully thin, but these men knew how to temper their strength, when it suited their purpose. “Don’t break her. I still need her, but I suspect her enthusiasm will surprise you.”

  He looked down the row of identical doors, his scowl unchanged. “I’d much rather entertain you.”

  The brash comment pleased her enough that she didn’t reprimand his insolence. “Do your best. That’s all I can ask.”

  She watched the roll of his tight ass as he sauntered toward Porffer’s door. The tiger tattoo was centered between his shoulder blades, brightly colored and intricately detailed. She couldn’t imagine putting herself through the pain, but she had to admit the result was striking.

  “What was that about?” Zach Westbrook moved up beside her. “Alex is supposed to be on perimeter patrol.”

  She glanced at her lover and a shiver darted down her spine. He’d been particularly aggressive last night. He’d commanded and controlled her in ways she’d never dreamed she’d enjoy. She couldn’t allow herself to become accustomed to his forceful touch, unless he intended to claim her as his mate. And so far that wasn’t the case.

  “I needed him for something else,” she said with a dismissive wave of one hand.

  “If one of my men needs to be reassigned, tell me.”

  “This was more along the lines of a personal errand than a reassignment.” She looked at him and arched her brow. “Why so testy?”

  “I know we all ultimately answer to you, but they need to respect the chain of command.”

  “Porffer has been particularly disagreeable. I thought a few orgasms might lighten her mood. Was that really something I needed to clear through you?” And why the hell was she explaining herself to anyone? She was a royal princess of Rodymia!

  “I’m their alpha. Everything needs to be cleared through me.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  Didn’t he realize how quickly she could make him disappear? If Alex proved more obedient than Zach, Team West could easily have a new alpha. “I need to go back to the ship.”

  “Why?”

  She’d put up with his attitude long enough. “It’s none of your business. Our private arrangement has nothing to do with how this project is run. You might be team alpha, but I’m queen bee. Don’t forget it again.”

  His posture remained tense, his gaze mutinous, but he whispered, “Yes, mistress.”

  * * * * *

  Drakkin walked into the Fireside Room, tense and obviously distressed.

  “What’s the matter, sir?” Blayne moved to Angie’s side so they both faced their host.

  “One of my agents intercepted a message from Sevrin Keire to her uncle on Rodymia. They weren’t able to verify her exact location, but they did decipher enough of the message to piece together the meaning.”

  “Then she’s definitely on Earth?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Why do you have spies on Earth?”

  Blayne couldn’t help but smile. Angie frequently latched on to unusual details. It was part of what made her so unique.

  Drakkin smiled as well. “Information is my primary business, young lady. I have spies everywhere.”

  “And Sevrin Keire is the Rodyte you think is helping the Shadow Assassins?” She looked from Drakkin to Blayne and back, making it hard to tell whom she wanted to respond to her question.

  “We don’t think she’s helping them. We think she’s controlling them,” Blayne told her.

  “And financing them,” Drakkin added.

  Sensing a surge in Angie’s anxiety, Blayne placed his hand at the small of her back. “What did the message say?” He tried to sound calm and casual, hoping to minimize the crisis.

  “That she’d hit a dead end and needed the rest of her team readily available.”

  Blayne shook his head. Even vague as the message was, it couldn’t be good. “Lor needs to know about this.”

  “I agree.” Drakkin moved closer.

  “Who is Sevrin’s uncle?” Again Angie had focused on an odd detail.

  “His name is Quentin. He’s Crown Stirate, which is the Rodymian term for high king,” Blayne explained. “Quentin came to power when Sevrin’s father died.”

  “So what did she mean about her team?”

  “Technology on Rodymia far exceeds technology on Earth.” Drakkin turned toward the hearth and extended his hands toward the fire. “It stands to reason that she left part of her team on Rodymia and brought part to Earth with her. It’s never wise to keep all your assets in one place.”

  “So why do you think she wants the others with her now?”

  “Because the team on Earth hasn’t been able to accomplish what they set out to do,” Blayne supposed. “That’s the only good news for us.”

  “The newcomers cannot be allowed to join her team.” Drakkin’s tone was suddenly sharp. “I’ve never interacted with Sevrin, but I knew her father. If she’s anything like him, this is a calamity. We must find a way of intercepting her people.”

  Blayne nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing with Drakkin’s c
onclusion. “Was your spy able to contact Lor?”

  Drakkin shook his head and the tension mounted. “I can’t risk blowing his cover. It took years to build his alter ego. I hate to rush you two, but I think it’s time for you to go home.”

  “I’ll return. Will you protect Angie until I get back?”

  “Not a chance,” Angie snapped. “No way you’re leaving me here.”

  “Actually, I agree with her,” Drakkin said. “Her training has gone incredibly well. I think she’s ready for some real-world experience.”

  It wasn’t wise to argue with the Director of the Symposium, but Blayne strongly disagreed. “She hasn’t even attempted to access the tracer strand yet. It’s too dangerous.”

  “It makes more sense for her to be on Earth when she follows the strand. If she manages to locate Nazerel, he will need to be immediately apprehended. That will be much harder to accomplish if she’s still on Bilarri.”

  Blayne crossed his arms over his chest. It didn’t matter that Drakkin’s logic was sound. Blayne didn’t want Angie in danger. “I don’t like it.”

  “You’re connection is strong. Surely you can protect her.” Drakkin delivered the line with just enough challenge to bring out the warrior in Blayne.

  “Of course I can protect her. I just wanted her to have more time to adjust to all the changes.”

  “She’ll feel more secure on her home world. And the Mystic Militia will be there to support you.”

  “Don’t go away mad; just go away?” Angie seemed far less upset by the idea than Blayne.

  Drakkin turned to her with a charming smile and brought her hand to his lips. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Our paths will cross again.”

  “Is that a threat or a promise?”

  “A simple statement of fact.” He turned and clasped arms with Blayne. “You’ve many storms yet to weather, but this enemy will be vanquished.”