“Dali.” Logan spins in his seat so she can see his face. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but what makes you believe your father will listen to you? You know how stubborn he is.”
“I have to try.” Her gaze is pleading. “What other options do we have?” Her brows bunch up.
“Why not take out the mother ship and be done with it?” Zac unhelpfully supplies.
“There are thousands of my people on that ship. Thousands!” Dali hisses.
“And what makes you think I give two shits about them?” A muscle clenches in his jaw as his temper flares up again.
Dali shows remarkable restraint. “And have you seen the size of it? It would take considerable firepower to inactivate it, and my father will send out fighter drones before you’ve even had a chance to hit him where it hurts.”
“With the government forces and Saven resources to support our efforts, I believe we could take it down. Or we resort to DV8 weaponry,” Zac adds, leaning back in his chair.
“We’ve discussed this already, Zac. DV8 testing isn’t complete. Deploying such weapons is a risk we can’t afford to take,” Vin confirms.
“So let’s coordinate an attack on the mother ship and prepare troops on the ground.” He shrugs, as if this is an easy decision.
“Is the mother ship still in New York?” I ask. Vin nods. “Then we need to plan an evacuation before we even consider making a move.”
“No.” Zac shakes his head. “That will tip them off.”
“We risk too many lives.”
“It’s war, princess. We can’t save everyone.”
His attitude totally pisses me off, but getting mad won’t serve any purpose, so I count to ten in my head before I reply. “We have to at least try.”
“Let me talk to my father, and hopefully we can avoid having to plan any type of attack,” Dali says.
Win is glaring at her, but she’s studiously ignoring him. “No way, Dali. It’s too dangerous. He’s too unpredictable.”
“I have to agree with Win,” Logan says. “We cannot risk your safety. The Amaretti back on your home planet are preparing for relocation and they need you.”
Her lips pinch tight, as she turns her attention on me. “What is your view?”
“I’m sorry, Dali, but I agree with Logan and Win.” Her face drops, and guilt bites me, but I’m not going to promote her viewpoint purely because she’s one of my closest friends. Not when it’s something I don’t agree with her on.
“Fine, fine.” She slumps in her chair, admitting defeat. “So, what are we going to do instead?”
“I suggest we park the decision until after we have spoken with the president,” Jarod proposes. “If they pledge their support and we’ve access to their military resources, we can meet with the relevant personnel and then agree on a plan. Attempting to commit to something now is a bit premature, in my opinion, because we need to understand exactly what we have at our disposal.”
“I agree,” Logan says, and Vin bobs his head.
The discussion breaks up then, and Logan leaves with Vin to head to a prearranged meeting. Haydn has convened as many of the Saven guards on Earth as he can so Logan can speak to them directly to update them on events back on Saven and outline what is required of them to aid the efforts to evict the Amaretti from human airspace. Zac storms off without a word, leaving Dali, Win, me, Jarod, and Luc alone.
“Wanna check out the cafeteria?” Jarod suggests, shutting down the digital feed. “I’m sure you guys are hungry.”
I walk in between Jarod and Luc as Win and Dali trail us, arguing in hushed tones. Every so often, Luc glances over his shoulder at her. “Where’s Fern?” I ask Jarod. “Have you seen much of her?”
“Everyone has to pull their weight around here, and Vin has her working in maintenance, so I haven’t seen that much of her, but she seems good.”
When we enter the cafeteria, conversation lulls as several inquisitive heads turn in our direction. A few Saven guards rise from their seats, bowing respectfully. I acknowledge them with a subtle nod of my head, silently willing them to sit back down, even if it is nice that they don’t appear to hate my guts on sight. My aversion to attention-seeking situations hasn’t dissipated in the slightest. I’m not sure how I’m going to cope with all the interest once I’m Saven queen.
Luc chuckles, noticing my embarrassment, and I swat his arm. “Shut it.”
“Better get used to it, Mistress Sadie.” He guffaws, and I roll my eyes.
I tilt my head to the side as I swipe a tray. “Do you want me to laser your lips shut?”
“You wouldn’t dare deprive the world of these babies,” he says, puckering his lips and making kissing sounds. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch two of the Saven guards eye him up like bait.
“Careful,” I murmur, scooping some pasta and fruit onto my plate. “The Saven take their traditions pretty seriously.”
“They’re a strange bunch, always freaking arguing,” he notes, heaping pasta onto his plate. “But very dedicated, I have to give them that.”
“They’re different to Logan and Haydn and Ne—” Jarod stops himself, and a dicing pain spears me through the heart.
“Yeah.” I snatch a bottle of water as Jarod loops his arm in mine. “They haven’t undergone conscience transfer yet, so everything’s black and white to them.” I purposely ignore his reference to Neve, nuking my anguish as I take a seat at the table.
I idly twirl a pasta shape around my fork, forcing it into my mouth, even though my appetite has vanished. Dali and Win claim seats across from us, worry written all over their faces. A group at the table next to us gets up and moves to the far end of the room. “Was it something I said?” I ask drolly.
“News of your little show back there has no doubt already spread around the compound. You’re probably freaking them out.”
I drop my fork, giving up all pretense of eating as I push my plate away. “Can’t say I blame them.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jarod pops a piece of meat in his mouth.
“I was going to but there wasn’t time, and I’ve only recently learned to control it.”
“Tell that to the wall,” Luc jokes.
“I assume it’s connected to your alien DNA?” Jarod props his chin up in his hands, eyeing me with blatant curiosity.
“No one knows. It’s a Tor ability that was virtually extinct. I still don’t know why I have it. It’s one of the reasons Griselda wanted to keep me—she wanted me to head up her Assassins Program.” I take a sip of my water.
“Thank God, Zac isn’t here for this convo, he would totally lose his shit.” Luc grins.
“What is your brother’s problem?” Dali speaks up.
“Where do you want to start, sweetheart?” he replies, winking.
An unpleasant look crosses briefly over Win’s face. “It’s quite simple,” Jarod says, cutting in. “Aliens have invaded our planet, obliterated our land, and killed thousands of our people. He doesn’t trust any alien, irrespective of how much he trusts Vin to know what he’s doing.”
“My brother’s also frustrated at the lack of action. This situation has been dragging on for months, and he’s fed up of all the to-ing and fro-ing. He has a short fuse”—Luc grins again—“and he’s rapidly running out of patience. He wants this to be over. We all do.” His grin fades and a gloomy atmosphere replaces the previous jovial mood.
“Everyone is sick of fighting and death,” Dali quietly adds, as I spy Logan and Vin entering the room. I wiggle my fingers in the air, activating our connection and thrusting an invisible guiding line toward him.
Logan leans in, kissing my cheek. “Not hungry?” he asks, noticing the cold plate of food in front of me.
“Not really,” I lie, ignoring the frown on his face. “What’s up?”
Vin leans over the back of a chair. “I wanted to show you to your rooms and give you time to freshen up before we head out to meet the president.”
I push ba
ck my chair at the same time Dali and Win rise. I give Jarod a quick hug. “See you in a bit.” Luc extends his arms, pouting and showing me his best puppy-dog impression. “Don’t I get one too?”
I muss up his hair as Logan takes a firm hold of my hand. “Behave.” I’m still rolling my eyes as Logan leads us out of the cafeteria.
Vin shows us to our quarters and promptly makes himself scarce. The room is small and sparse, housing two single beds, two bedside tables with overhead lamps, and an adjacent private bathroom with shower. Compact but functional. I kick off my shoes and flop down on one of the beds, locking my hands behind my head. “How did the meeting go?”
Logan toes off his boots and loosens his shirt from his pants before joining me on the bed. I twist around on my side, propping myself up on one elbow. He mirrors my position. “As well as can be expected. Most seem to accept my authority and follow instruction.” He tucks my hair back behind my ears before leaning in and pressing his lips to my forehead. “Apart from a few renegades, most all the guards are towing the line, at least that’s what the officers in charge told us.”
I snuggle into his chest as his arms wrap around me. “That’s good.” A huge yawn slips out, and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.
“Sleep, baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling my neck. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to leave.”
I’m still yawning on the ship despite my power nap. I don’t know why I’m feeling so tired lately. Stress can do funny things to a body, I guess. Everyone must be feeling it, because conversation is minimal for the duration of the flight.
We approach a flat expanse of land as daylight is starting to transform to night. Navy and gray strips paint the sky in an eerie light, casting fleeting shadows over the ground below. We hover, seemingly in mid-air, and I watch in amazement as the ground slowly starts to break apart, the gap growing wider and deeper as the hidden underground facility comes into view.
We descend slowly into the belly of the facility until our ship docks with a gentle bump.
We emerge into a sleek hangar, equipped with the latest technology and housing row upon row of pristine military aircraft. Everything looks shiny, new, and unused. I spin around when I hear Logan’s name being called.
The president approaches, looking snazzy in a crisp, pinstripe suit. A couple of men and women—whom I recognize from his cabinet—flank him on either side. All display wide smiles, greeting us like we are long-lost friends come to party.
Bile rises up my throat, threatening to choke me.
Fury is an unleashed beast waiting to erupt as I think of all the suffering above ground. Thinking how the populace at large has been left to their own defenses while their leaders buried themselves in the proverbial sand, is twisting my gut into angry knots.
How dare these people!
How dare they hide themselves away, in the lap of luxury, wanting for nothing, while ordinary people battle the enemy they brought to our doorstep.
Blood rushes to my head as fire zings through my body, latching onto my anger and using it to fuel my power. I’m vaguely aware of Logan silently reaching out to me, but I can’t see over the rage coating my insides and blurring my vision.
A frustrated scream rips from my throat as fiery beams discharge from my eyes, shooting aimlessly into the hangar.
Sounds of yelling and roaring are barely audible over the rage controlling me, eradicating all sense and reason.
My head jerks back as something solid knocks into my temple, sending me crashing to the ground.
A blaring siren rings out amid the sounds of hysteria, and that’s the last thing I hear before I black out.
CHAPTER 17
When I regain consciousness, I have the mother of all headaches along with an accompanying apple-sized lump at the side of my head. I prod it gently, wincing at the tender, raised skin. Logan and Haydn are screaming at one another somewhere in the vicinity. Struggling to pull myself up, I scan the room through blurry eyes, desperately trying to recall how I got here, and where here is.
Then it all comes back to me, along with renewed anger.
Logan spins around, no doubt sensing my whirlwind of emotions. He strides toward me, eating up the space between us. “Angel, are you okay?” He runs his hands up and down my arms, his touch helping to settle me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, embarrassed at how easily I lost control. I straighten up on the couch.
“Hey.” He tips my chin up until my eyes meet his. “Your reaction was completely understandable.”
“How much damage did I cause?” I look up, watching Haydn hover in the background.
“You took out a few of their aircraft before Haydn assaulted you.” He grits his teeth, and his jaw pulses in and out.
“You hit me?” I watch Haydn cross the room.
“I’m sorry for hurting you but it was the only way I could think to stop you. I knew you’d be upset if you hurt anyone.”
My heart stutters in my chest, my eyes frantic as they turn to Logan. “Please tell me I didn’t kill anyone?” My breathing is labored as rampant panic takes charge.
“Shush,” Logan says, his tranquil tone at odds with the chilling glare he sends Haydn. “No one was hurt.”
I close my eyes as air leaks out of my lungs in grateful relief. “Thank the stars!” My eyes flicker open, finding Haydn. “Thank you. You did the right thing.” Logan shakes his head, continuing to glare at his friend. “Babe, I know you don’t like to see me hurt. I’m the same way with you, but someone had to stop me. I shouldn’t have lost control like that. It was unforgiveable.”
“You haven’t had much time to work on controlling your gift, so I think you should give yourself a break.” Haydn sends me a sympathetic look.
“He finally talks some sense,” Logan retorts.
I push up off the couch. Standing up, I run my hands over my shirt and pants, attempting to smooth the wrinkles in my clothes. “Let’s go.” I extend my hand and Logan takes it without argument.
Haydn leads us up and down successive passageways, all lined in silver-paneled walls that throw my reflection back at me. My sneakers squelch against the glossy, pristine floor. People mill about, giving me a wide berth. I’m not making many friends these days, but I’m nonplussed. It’s a reaction I’ve grown accustomed to.
“Who are all these people?” I muse out loud.
“The president recruited a lot of top government operatives to come here with them,” Logan explains. “I chatted with him while the medics checked you over,” he explains, spotting my confusion. “Apparently, there are close to five thousand living here.”
We step into a massive open area that is shaped in a circle with corridors and doors branching out in all directions. Haydn consults the digital reader in his hand and gives us a one-shouldered shrug, indicating we should follow him.
After another five-minute walk, we reach a closed mahogany-stained door, and Haydn jabs a code into the small keypad secured to the wall. The door swings open and the sounds of raised voices tickle my eardrums.
The minute I step into the room, all conversation ceases. Heads jerk up, and shocked, frightened faces watch my every step with potent concern. “It’s okay,” I say to the room. “I’m under control now. I apologize for earlier.” A few women cower in their seats as I pass, and I hate that they are scared of me. “Please, don’t be frightened. I don’t wish anyone harm.”
My heart is slamming against my ribcage and my mouth is dry. Logan gives my hand a brief squeeze.
The president gets up from his chair at the top of the table, extending his hand. I shake it firmly, holding his troubled gaze. “That was a terrifying display of a power you have no control over.”
Color floods my cheeks. “I’ve had little time to work on my gift, but I can control it.” His expression is doubtful, and that annoys me, but I dampen it down, adhering to Logan’s hand and letting his warmth and supportive thoughts ground me. “I was furious when I saw how you’ve all been living,�
�� I admit, as I scan the unfriendly crowd. “Have any of you seen the devastation and suffering above ground?”
“We receive regular comm feeds,” a frumpy-looking woman says in a clipped tone. It’s the same lady who presided over the cabinet meeting I attended when the Amaretti and Saven first invaded Earth.
“Well, I hope you’re all ashamed of yourselves,” I say. The president gulps and a few of his cabinet members avert their eyes, staring at the floor. “You swore to protect those people, and you abandoned them when they needed you most!” I eyeball the president. “I hope you are prepared to rectify that now.”
The president pulls out a chair, gesturing for me to sit down. “We are, but, we aren’t quite as negligent as you seem to think.” He drops down in his seat. “We have been communicating with our military reserves and our DV8 facility, working behind the scenes to prepare a defense.”
I thump my clenched fist on the table. “It wasn’t enough!”
Cautiously, Logan places his hand over mine, and he sends pacifying thoughts through our connection. I take deep breaths, forcing myself to stay calm.
“You are right, Sadie. We should’ve done more. We pledge our support going forward, and we agree to a united front so we can fight this invasion once and for all.” The president’s gaze drifts to Logan. “We are listening now; tell us what you have in mind.”
We spend the next couple of hours going back and forth over various strategies, discussing the pros and cons and listening to the so-called military experts in the room extoll the virtue of one plan over another. The president has agreed to issue formal communication to the military confirming they are to work with Vin and Logan on a coordinated plan of attack. He has also organized a meeting for us with the man in charge of the DV8 facility to discuss any options they can offer in support of this coordinated effort. Most importantly, they have agreed to come out of hiding, and Vin has assured them secure facilities at the rebel compound where their advanced technology will protect them from alien attack. The president has asked for a couple of days to plan the relocation, and Vin will use that time to prepare the compound for their arrival.
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