by Kate Rudolph
Matched.
Not taken.
He tore his gaze away and listened to the comm chatter. He hoped they took the suspect quietly with no fuss. He didn’t know if he and Lena were ready for another test, and he didn’t want to suffer another failure. But today wasn’t the day for his hopes to be met. The cry came that the suspect was heading up the stairs, and he and Lena sprung into action. There were other teams waiting to intercept on the floors before the roof, but as the suspect passed the first and then the second team it became obvious that they’d be the ones to stop him.
Lena was ready by the door with Solan standing a bit behind her. Her wings pulsed in the air around her and he was ready to believe that she could do this, could use her powers successfully and pull this mission off.
The door burst open, and for a minute all was well. Lena shot a bolt of her spark at the suspect and he stumbled. Then his own wings shot out, angry red and black and bigger than they should have been, and he jolted up and tackled Lena. They scuffled, spark shooting back and forth. Solan sent his own to join her, knowing it wouldn’t do any damage to his Match. But the extra power distracted Lena and the suspect reared back and slugged her across the face.
Solan’s own jaw ached from the force of it.
The suspect shot to his feet and looked around wildly. There was nowhere for him to go, not unless he wanted to jump to one of the nearby buildings, and even with the help from his wings it would be a risky trick. Solan saw the moment the suspect decided to try it. He dug his feet into the roof and bent his knees, ready to run.
He glanced quickly at Solan, as if daring him to stop him. Solan’s spark flared out, but the suspect dodged it and took off. Solan chased him, knowing he wouldn’t catch him in time. The angle was off, and if he tried to take him down with his spark there was too much risk of the suspect falling off the roof.
Solan knew that. Lena didn’t.
He heard her call out but didn’t look back, too focused on taking the suspect down. The suspect had made it to the edge of the roof when a spark of power blasted him between the shoulders. He stumbled, and time slowed as he tripped over the lip of the roof, arms and wings flailing wildly as he tried to get his balance. He wasn’t going to. He was already pitched too far forward. There was no stopping the fall.
And Solan was running too fast to stop. He slammed into the suspect and they both went over the edge.
LENA SPRINTED TO THE edge of the building, yelling for Solan with every step. Her heart threatened to explode with worry and her mind offered up dozens of images of what he’d look like sprawled out, dead and broken on the pavement below.
She forgot about the wings.
He’d caught the suspect by the time she spotted him and was gliding down with more control than she would have been able to muster. But they were still moving fast and the ground seemed to rush up to meet them. Even from nine stories up she heard the yell, but she didn’t know if it was her partner or the person he had in custody. For a crazy second she was tempted to follow him over the ledge to get down faster, but her wings were faltering in and out of existence and she didn’t trust them to last long enough. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if they disappeared mid-fall.
She scrambled down the stairs, dodging other guard units, trying to find Solan. Was he hurt? Should she feel something like that through their bond? She didn’t know.
In the few minutes it had taken her to get downstairs, a guard unit had swarmed around the suspect and watched as the medical team tended to him. He moaned about his legs being broken, and there was a nasty bruise on the side of his face. He could have died. Lena could have killed him. Even worse, it would have been an accident. She was sick to her stomach at the thought.
A soldier had to be in control of her weapons all the time, otherwise she was a risk to herself and everyone around her. And Lena couldn’t control her wings or her spark. She was a danger to everyone in the field and she needed to figure herself out. She was going to demand more training, even if that meant coming in early before missions and staying late into the night. She’d forgo sleep if it meant she could learn control.
Solan was sitting on the other side of the medvan holding an icepack to his face. She eyed him up and down as surreptitiously as she could manage, but she was pretty sure he caught her, given the glare he shot her way.
Lena’s first instinct was to defend herself. She wanted to point out that she hadn’t used a blaster, just as she’d been instructed. But that was the only success of the day and she was sure Solan wouldn’t see it as a victory. It would serve him right if she just walked away. There were qualified medics who would check on him. He didn’t need her.
But her feet wouldn’t move.
She could see the beginnings of an ugly bruise under the icepack and it couldn’t feel good. She knew they had some sort of magical healing cream that made wounds disappear way faster than any treatment back home, and she hoped he got some soon.
Keeping just enough distance between them to be out of reach, Lena leaned against the van. “We got the guy,” she offered feebly. Somehow ‘nobody died’ didn’t seem like a good enough reason to call this a job well done.
Solan shifted and repositioned the ice pack so he could glare at her. “He’s got broken legs and would be dead if I hadn’t gone over with him. We caused a spectacle and embarrassed the security forces. Please tell me you didn’t use your blaster.” He turned back away from her, as if looking at her for longer than thirty seconds was too much to ask.
Lena’s anger simmered and threatened to boil. “No blaster, like I promised.” It came out harsh. She’d been desperate to get into the field, but now she’d be happy if they didn’t leave the training facility for another month. She hated to acknowledge just how right Solan was. “We need more training. I’m not ready to be out here.” It hurt to say it. She’d been so adamant that they needed to bond, and now she knew she was holding him back. And herself. If she didn’t have to rely on her stupid wings she could be much more help. She didn’t need super powers when they had perfectly serviceable blasters.
He sighed. “We’re about to get more than either of us could want.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He didn’t sound happy about it, and Lena was a little scared to find out. It was one thing to need more training and another thing to be assigned training as punishment. What would the Synnrs do to her? To them?
“Just wait.” He tossed the icepack into the medvan, and Lena saw the gauze it had been hiding. She hoped that meant he had the healing cream on.
Her emotions were all mixed up and she hated it. She hated that Solan was mad at her and that she probably deserved it. She hated that she was making things worse for both of them. And she hated that her heart had threatened to explode when she saw him go over that ledge. The wings meant nothing. They didn’t feel like anything, and she had no idea how they could break a person’s fall. Obviously, they worked. Solan was just a little bruised. But he could have died.
She swallowed hard.
She didn’t want him dead.
Her hands shook, and she shoved them in the pockets of her tactical pants. That was a weakness no one needed to see, especially when she was sure they were going to get reamed out by the next authority figure that spotted them. She was tempted to sneak away, but that would only prolong the torture.
She stole another glance at Solan and her heart clenched. His brows were drawn down in focus and she could just make out a bit of his tattoo peeking out from the open neck of his shirt. She wanted to trace it with her tongue. Wanted to kiss all his wounds and make it better. She’d dealt with lust before, but never when it balled up into a tight knot mixed with... caring? It wasn’t even the same as her one failed relationship. That had been nice and convenient. She’d liked having a warm body in her bed and someone to do things with whenever they were both free.
But when she’d been transferred, she hadn’t asked her ex to move with her. He hadn’t
asked to come. They’d both been a little disappointed that things had to end, but he’d slipped out of her life like he’d never been there. She’d had more grief and heartache canceling her cable bill.
What did that have to do with Solan?
So what if she wanted to kiss him? So what if her heart was aching to get involved? It couldn’t happen. Just how much would today suck if he was her boyfriend as well as the partner she’d let down?
Her communicator crackled with the order for her and Solan to report to HQ. They silently found each other and caught a ride with a transport heading back that way. Lena thought they’d at least have a moment to change out of their gear, but the second they stepped through the door they were ordered to report to Major Ozar’s office.
Today she was sitting beside a man Lena didn’t recognize, and he was furious. He nodded for both of them to take a seat on the bench and then sprang to his feet the second they were sitting. His wings flashed out, blues and oranges and a bit of green. They took up half the room and Major Ozar had to duck out of the way to keep from getting hit.
Lena expected everything he said. They were failures. Their discipline was terrible. They’d almost ruined everything. She’d dealt with temperamental commanders before and knew how to let the hotheaded censure wash over her like it was nothing. He couldn’t hurt her. But the disappointed look on Major Ozar’s face was a punch to the gut.
She waited until the commander lost his steam and settled back into his chair, pulling his wings in tight before speaking. “You are not field ready as a Matched unit,” she stated calmly.
Lena almost snorted, despite the guilt. No shit. They had a few dozen hours of training at best.
Ozar continued, her expression neutral. “You’re being sent to an intensive training facility. You will be judged there and only allowed to return once you’ve passed the tests. If, after ten weeks, you have failed to mesh, we will revisit your positions.”
Solan seemed to shrink in his seat, as if this were terrible news and yet completely expected. “Yes, ma’am.”
Lena couldn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure what was so bad about intensive training when they desperately needed it, and Solan wasn’t in a talking mood. They weren’t even given a chance to change before they were bundled back into a vehicle and sent out.
Solan was on his comm asking his sister to take care of his trott. It took Lena a second to remember he had an alien dog and that must have been who he was talking about. They were leaving the outskirts of the city when he finally disconnected and it was just the two of them. The vehicle was programmed to drive them wherever they were going, and she had no idea how long the journey would take.
“What just happened?” Lena finally asked.
Solan groaned and sank into his seat. “I’m being punished.” He didn’t elaborate. Lena didn’t ask more.
But if his attitude didn’t improve, the next few weeks were going to suck. She wished she could go back to Earth.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SOLAN SEETHED. IT WASN’T right to take his anger out on Lena, he knew that. But she was sitting right beside him on the long ride out of Osais. It could have been worse. If he didn’t have the influence of his family name to back him up, they might have been dismissed on the spot or faced criminal consequences for injuring the suspect. He knew the world wasn’t fair and he didn’t like to take advantage, but this time he would.
He could count his past mission failures on one hand and still have fingers to spare. And two of those failures had been at Lena’s side. He couldn’t control the fact that she wasn’t ready, and he felt like he was being punished for her shortcomings. Unfair. But he had to clamp his mouth shut until his jaw hurt to keep from saying anything. They were about to spend up to two months together and he didn’t want to start them off with resentment.
Stypon would resent him as it was. Luckily, Micia had agreed to watch the trott, but he would have felt better if he could say farewell himself. He was still adjusting to life back home and he wanted to spend his time with his pet, not hide away in the middle of nowhere.
Lena tried to start a conversation after an hour and a half or so, but Solan wasn’t in a talking mood. Another hour went by in silence. And then another. Aorsa wasn’t that big; if they traveled much farther they’d reach the end of the continent. He hoped they weren’t going to find a boat at the end of this road.
He got lucky. A small village was the first sign of life for miles, a collection of a few houses and apartments and a main street full of shops. Not much, a few thousand residents at most, but it was civilization. And hopefully a sign that they’d reached their destination.
Their vehicle took them through the town and then down a narrow, pitted road that ended at a small house. Well, small by Solan’s standard. At least four of the structure could fit into his home.
Lena leaned forward to get a better look. “Isn’t there supposed to be a training facility? A trainer?” she asked.
“This is the facility.” He said it with more certainty than he felt. But it had to be. He didn’t know much about these places, but he knew they were designed not to draw attention to themselves. The Synnr military didn’t like to advertise their shortcomings.
“And the trainer?”
When had he become the authority on the subject? He snapped the question back before he could make things even more tense between them. The day had already dragged on too long and Solan was ready to collapse into bed. He had no idea what time it was and he didn’t care. He was done.
The palm scan lock at the door read his hand and let them inside. The door opened into a sitting room with a small sofa and a few chairs facing an entertainment center, just like any other house. Down a long hallway he spotted an open door that must have led to the kitchen and another one that led to the bedroom.
The single bedroom.
Thankfully there were two beds.
Solan pulled out his communicator and put it on the small table beside one of the beds before shrugging off his jacket and laying it on the blanket. There was nothing special about the room. Each bed was big enough to hold two people if they squeezed tight, but that wouldn’t be an issue for them. There was a bedside table beside each bed and a larger table in the middle of the room with a full basket sitting on top of it.
“What the actual fuck?” He watched as Lena picked up a slim tube and then put it back as if it burned her. Then she picked up another item, her eyes got wide, and she threw it back down.
He stepped up to her to get a better look. Sexual lubricant and a few toys. Items some Matched units might need. “I suppose they don’t want anyone leaving for... supplies.” It was expected that Matches would be sexually active; he didn’t see why she was so surprised. Perhaps they did things differently on Earth.
She stared at the basket for several moments before swallowing hard, her cheeks tinged red. “Well, that’s one team building activity we know is off the table.”
Solan had his own trouble looking away. There was no reason to find it strange or alluring. Adults had sex. Matches often had sex. There was nothing prurient to providing assistance to that end. It was healthy. But his cock was getting thick and he wondered how he could put the toys to use with Lena.
“I’m going to get food.” She spun away from the basket and faced the door. “I’m starving. I guess maybe the trainer is coming later? Or tomorrow?” She didn’t seem to be talking to him so much as trying to fill the space with noise to ignore the sex basket.
“Maybe.” But he couldn’t be sure. Something felt off about this entire setup. Whatever it was, they’d figure it out soon enough.
THEY HADN’T HANDED out sex toys in Kuwait. Though given how horny some of the assholes she’d been stationed with had been, it probably wouldn’t have been a bad idea. But she couldn’t get the image of that dildo out of her mind no matter how many times she blinked, and she didn’t trust herself to remain in that room for another minute. Best case scenario? Juvenile jokes
and tossing the thing at Solan’s head. Worst case? Well... no use daydreaming.
It was another reminder of how different her new home was from everything she was used to. Fraternization was supposed to be frowned upon, not encouraged. Though the rules had to be different when the people were soulmates. Matches. Whatever.
How long was this damn hallway?
Lena’s mind might have been a whirlwind, but it should have only taken a couple of steps to go from the bedroom to the kitchen, and she’d definitely been moving longer than that. She could feel eyes on her, watching her from the shadows. And why was it so shadowy? It hadn’t been when they’d walked in, and the sun never went down. It should have been bright inside.
She shivered. It wasn’t cold, but there was something off about this place.
She wished she had her blaster, but it had been taken from her shortly after the fuck up of a mission. She considered letting out her wings, but clearly she wasn’t in any danger. And she didn’t want Solan to see it and think... she didn’t know what he would think. Some people kept their wings out almost all the time while others kept them hidden. It seemed to be a personal choice, like wearing long hair up or down.
“You don’t need to follow me,” she called back, expecting to find Solan two paces behind her. But she was alone in the too long hallway.
Was that door supposed to be there?
When they’d walked in she’d seen the door to the bedroom and the kitchen, but now there was another one and she didn’t know where it led. She tested the latch, but it was locked. She could try to force it, but something told her she didn’t want to find out what was inside. She left it for the moment and continued to the kitchen. This time she counted her steps rather than let her thoughts get caught on anything.