Targeted

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Hi, I’m Kate,” she said brightly. “And you are…?”

  “Grayson. Richard Grayson.” His drugged eyes sharpened a little. “What do you want?”

  “I’m a PI hired by the parents of Emily Brooks,” Kate lied glibly. “We’re trying to find her last known whereabouts and we were told that you might have some information for us.”

  “What?” His eyes went from mildly annoyed to wary in a heartbeat. “Who told you that? I don’t know where Emily went so just leave me alone!”

  He started to shut the door but Rone was suddenly there, holding it open effortlessly, even though by this time Grayson was straining with all his might to close it.

  “I don’t think so,” her mate rumbled, his glowing blue eyes flashing. “I think you do know something about Emily. You still have her scent on you. And are these her teeth marks?” He pulled Grayson’s collar to one side, exposing bruised and torn skin with some very human looking bite marks.

  Kate frowned. “Wow, somebody really worked this guy over? You really think it was Emily?” she sent to Rone silently.

  “I don’t know but we’re going to find out.”

  He forced his way inside and Kate followed though Grayson was complaining and threatening the entire time.

  “Look,” she said, turning to him as Rone shut the front door firmly behind them. “We just need answers to a few questions and then we’ll leave you alone.”

  “I don’t know anything about Emily.” He glared at them resentfully. “And I don’t care what she told you—she attacked me—not the other way around!”

  “She did, huh?” Kate studied him thoughtfully. This guy, Grayson, lived in a nice house and drove a nice car. He had good hair and generically handsome features but there was something off about him—something she didn’t like. The psychic stink that rose from someone with a rotten soul. It was almost like someone with a rotten tooth will have bad breath. She was betting if Emily had attacked him, she’d had a good reason to do it.

  “Yeah, she did,” Grayson said sullenly. “She just went crazy—tore into my neck for no reason—no reason at all!”

  “Did she do that to your arm and hand?” Rone asked. “She must be a pretty strong female.”

  “No, this was done by that other guy—that weird Kindred in the black vest.” Grayson made a vague motion with his unhurt hand. “Big guy—almost as big as you—long, black hair, yellow eyes. Looked like a professional wrestler.”

  “Was he a Beast Kindred?” Rone asked.

  Grayson shrugged. “I don’t know—maybe. Sure as hell did a number on my hand—again for no reason.”

  Kate wasn’t buying the whole ‘Oh, I’m so innocent and people beat me up for no reason’ routine. Grayson must have done something to set off both Emily and the Beast Kindred who seemed somehow tied to her. But to find out what it was, she’d need to do a reading. Inwardly, she sighed. It was probably going to be really unpleasant digging around in the mind of a man like Grayson—but it was necessary to know what was going on.

  “Mr. Grayson, thank you for your time,” she said, holding out her hand to shake.

  “Sorry, um…” He started to reach with his hurt hand and then held out his left instead, awkwardly.

  Kate took him by the fingertips and concentrated hard. She didn’t try to mute the sensation as she had when she read the Havoc’s memories back on the Mother Ship or the nice teacher at the school—they needed this information too desperately to be gentle. Instead, she dived right in, trying to get to the heart of the matter. Immediately a barrage of images—none of them pleasant—slammed into her brain.

  “Whoa—hey!” Grayson pulled his hand away. “What did you do to me? That felt weird!”

  “It’s about to feel weirder,” Kate said grimly. She looked up at Rone. “Hold him—I need to go in deep.”

  Her mate stepped up and gripped Grayson by the shoulders.

  “Listen up, human,” he growled, letting just a bit of his Beast out. “Unless you want your left hand to end up like your right one, you’ll be still and let my mate read you.”

  Grayson took one look at his glowing blue eyes and slightly shifted features and began to whimper.

  “All right—whatever—just don’t hurt my other hand!” he moaned.

  “Be quiet and hold still,” Kate commanded. Bracing herself, she reached up and pressed her fingertips to the side of his face. Then she dove in, determined to find out what was going on, even if it hurt like Hell.

  “No, leave me alone! Don’t touch me!” A scared girl with brownish blonde hair and pale blue eyes was scrambling away. Fear and loathing was written all over her face but for some reason these emotions excited Grayson. Kate couldn’t see him—these memories were from his point of view so for all intents and purposes she was him—but she could feel the excitement welling up from his rotten soul. He was terrorizing this girl who must be Emily Brooks and he was getting a sexual charge out of it.

  Sick bastard! Kate wished she could get away from him and go take a hot shower but she had to know what had happened to Emily—she had no choice but to go even deeper. She heard Emily accuse him of raping her and continued watching as Grayson kept advancing, clearly intent on assaulting her again. It made Kate sick but somehow she held on, needing to know the whole story.

  Then Emily changed somehow—her eyes went from pale blue to glowing gold and her hair, which had been limp dishwater blonde only moments before turned into a lustrous, black curly mane.

  Kate frowned—she’d only seen this kind of dramatic physical shift when she’d witnessed Rone change partially into his beast. He was always careful not to go too far though—not to let too much of it out when he was around her. But Emily didn’t grow fur or fangs, only her eyes and hair changed.

  Suddenly Emily pounced! Kate felt Grayson’s fear and agony as she latched onto his neck and began to rip and tear. It seemed like she would rip his throat out but suddenly a tall Kindred warrior with black hair and golden eyes much like Emily’s own was pulling her off Grayson.

  The Beast Kindred started speaking soothingly to Emily, calling her “Khalla.” Kate frowned—where had she heard that term before? It seemed like someone had said it to her the one and only time she’d visited Rone’s home planet with him.

  There was a lot more—the Kindred threatening to kill Grayson and telling Emily she wasn’t safe, that he had been sent to kill her—that he was one of the Verrak—

  Oh my God—the Verrak! The Beast Kindred is the assassin! He’s the one that was sent to kill Emily. But instead he…

  Instead he dragged Grayson to his car and pulverized his hand and arm, making sure, as he said, that Grayson could never touch a woman against her will again. Then he let Grayson escape in his car and walked back up to Emily’s house. At least, that was the last view Grayson had of him in his memories.

  Kate released her hold on his face with relief. She still felt the need for a hot shower, to wash away the psychic slime of diving into a rancid mind like Grayson’s, but at least now they knew what had happened to Emily.

  “So he let you go because she told him not to kill you,” she said to Grayson, who was still whimpering in Rone’s grip.

  “I never would have hurt her—he didn’t have to break my hand,” Grayson moaned. “I told the police all about it—how she attacked me and then he practically maimed me. They were probably both on drugs.”

  “And what happened to Emily after all this?” Rone demanded. “Where did she go?”

  “Dunno.” Grayson shrugged sullenly. “They ran off together, I guess—probably to score more drugs. Anyway, that’s what the police think.”

  “They did leave together but they weren’t looking for drugs,” Kate said, eying him contemptuously. Her fingers itched to go for her gun but she restrained herself. Such scum didn’t deserve to live but it looked like the Beast Kindred had already done a pretty good job of punishing him. She turned to her mate. “Rone,” she said. “I think I’ve got it—I k
now where she is. Or at least, what happened to her.”

  * * * * *

  “Thank you for seeing us.” Rone bowed to Commander Sylvan and the rest of the Kindred High Council. “The good news is that Kate and I tracked Emily Brooks to the school she works at and from there to her house. The bad news is, she’s already been taken.”

  “Then we are too late to save her,” Commander Sylvan looked deeply troubled. “Gods…” He shook his head. “I hate to think what kind of torment the poor little female must be going through.”

  “No, we don’t believe we’re too late.” Kate, said, taking up the narrative from Rone. “Emily was taken but she wasn’t killed.”

  “The Verrak most often leave the body of their kills in plain sight, to prove their job is done,” Rone continued. “But we don’t believe that the one who took Emily intends to kill her.”

  Briefly, he outlined everything Kate had learned from reading the rapist’s mind. Commander Sylvan listened, his pale blue eyes widening.

  “I have heard of the Khalla—my half brother, Baird, is a Beast Kindred. But I thought they were extremely rare—how would one end up so far from Rageron in the first place?”

  “We have no idea,” Kate said. “But we speculate that he might be taking her back there.”

  “So you truly don’t think he intends to kill her?” Commander Sylvan asked hopefully.

  Rone shook his head. “As you probably know, the Beast Kindred venerate Khallas. Even one that had gone rogue, as this one seems to have done, would be unable to kill a female he considered a sacred representation of the Goddess.”

  “Possibly, but I’d still like to be certain she’s all right.” Commander Sylvan frowned. “I’d like the two of you to continue to track Emily Brooks and report back to me on her whereabouts and safety.”

  “It might take some time to locate her on Rageron but we’ll be happy to, Commander.” Rone nodded.

  “Absolutely,” Kate echoed. “I feel for that girl—she’s had a hard life.”

  “And it’s likely to get harder in the near future,” Rone said grimly. “As I understand it, the initiation ceremony for a Khalla is…complicated.”

  “Go—find her.” Commander Sylvan nodded at them. “Restock your ship with whatever you need and tell the Transport officer to fold space for you. We must make sure this girl is safe—we must protect her at all costs!”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “Be well, my friend. The Goddess alone knows when we may meet again.”

  Saskia embraced her warmly and Emily hugged her back, trying to be careful of her breasts which were very tender this morning. She’d had a night of strange dreams about red eyes staring at her from the darkness and had woken with the feeling that someone had been whispering in her ear all night. It was a weird and slightly creepy sensation which left her grumpy and out of sorts. But she tried to put her irritation aside, knowing this might be the last time she got to see Saskia.

  “I wish we weren’t going so soon,” she said, smiling sadly at her new friend. “I would have liked to get to know you a little better.”

  “And I, you.” Saskia sighed. “Maybe once you are finished with your Tenrah you may be able to return to our humble planet for a short visit—if the Holy Council allows it.”

  “What do you mean if they allow it?” Emily frowned. “Who are they, anyway? And what do they have to say about where I go?”

  Saskia’s eyes widened.

  “Why, they are the Elders in the Holy Mountains of Rageron. They deal with all of the Khalla, so they do.”

  “Deal with them in what way? Tell them what to do? Where to go?”

  “Of course. A Khalla is a treasure to be cherished by all. The Elders see to that.”

  “You mean to tell me some group of old men are going to run my life once we get to Rageron?” Emily was beginning to get upset. “Who are they that they should say what I do and where I go?”

  “The Elders are both male and female and they are chosen by the Goddess to guide her Khallas.” Saskia looked a little shocked at her no-doubt blasphemous words. “Don’t worry, Emily—they’ll send you where you’re most needed.”

  “Send me where I’m needed? What does that mean?”

  “Well, if there’s a region with drought or famine…or one where many have been injured in a war or ravaged by disease…some Khalla’s have even been known to go into the Deep Blue if they are needed there.”

  “What?” Emily demanded. “What do I look like—the freaking Red Cross? I mean, I’m all for pitching in if there’s a disaster or something but I don’t want to spend my whole life going from one disaster to the next like some kind of weird mascot! I teach kindergarten—I work with children.”

  “And so you will—there are sure to be some orphanages where healing is needed.” Saskia stroked her arm soothingly. “I’m sorry I got you all riled up, so I am. Forgive me, Emily and please don’t worry about the future.”

  “Of course I worry about the future—I’m turning into a whole other person! Someone I don’t even know is going to take over my body and live my life and it won’t even be my life apparently—it’s going to be whatever a bunch of dried up old men tell me to do,” Emily snapped.

  Saskia’s eyes widened.

  “Do you really feel that way about your Kit’tara? But Emily, she is just another part of you. And a Khalla must go where her duty takes her—that is the life of one who is blessed and chosen by the Goddess.”

  Emily put her fingertips to her temples and rubbed, trying to push back the tension headache she could feel building.

  “I’m so sorry—I shouldn’t have said all that! I just had such strange dreams last night and I feel all weird and out of sorts this morning.”

  “Strange dreams?” Saskia looked troubled. “What kinds of dreams?”

  “I don’t even know.” Emily shook her head. “I just woke up feeling wrong.”

  “You’re worried about your fate, so you are,” Saskia said. “But you don’t need to be, Emily—you’re in the hands of the Goddess.”

  “Right, the Goddess.” Emily sighed. From the time this whole mess had started, she’d heard about the Goddess, first from Tragar who seemed to think he had abandoned the Kindred deity and was now damned by her, and then from his old master, Xen’dex who seemed to think the Goddess had some kind of hidden agenda Emily had to fulfill, and now from Saskia, who wanted her to put all of her trust in a being she had never seen—one she doubted strongly was anything but a figment of the imagination.

  “Yes, the Goddess.” Saskia smiled at her. “She is always close to her Khallas—they are her special children, the daughters she loves the most because they represent her in a mortal form.”

  “Yeah, well I don’t feel much like a goddess,” Emily muttered. In fact, she felt exactly the opposite of divine. Aside from the disturbing dreams she’d had all night, her breasts were full and aching again and she felt strangely sensitive between her legs, which was making her irritable.

  The full breasts were her most immediate problem. Emily had been hoping against hope that Tragar was wrong when he had guessed that her nectar wouldn’t flow without help. Not that she wanted her breasts to gush like a fountain but in a way it would have been easier if they had. Because she felt really awkward about asking the big Kindred to suck her nipples again.

  Of course, he hadn’t seemed to mind helping her the night before and it had been the most erotic experience of her entire life. But Emily knew he believed tasting her nectar was an act that might damn him although she didn’t fully understand why. She felt weird about asking him to commit such a grave “sin” again, even if she didn’t believe in the Goddess he was sure he was sinning against. So no matter how much her breasts ached, she was determined to keep it to herself.

  They were boarding his ship and setting a course for Rageron today, she reasoned. Maybe once she was there someone else could tell her what to do. Of course if what Saskia was saying was correct, the Holy Coun
cil might want to tell her exactly what she could and couldn’t do the rest of her life—not a pleasant prospect at all.

  But by then the other will probably be in control so that’ll be her problem, Emily thought grimly. I wonder when she comes out again? In the third stage of Tenrah? What did Tragar call it again? Let’s see, I’ve already been through Kalor and I’m in Scintil. Next comes Vlammen and then Hel right? Will I even know who I am by the time I get to the end? Or will my whole personality be completely gone?

  “Are you ready, my Khalla? It’s time we were away.” Tragar’s deep, rumbling voice interrupted her morbid thoughts.

  Emily forced herself to smile at him and squeezed Saskia’s hand one more time.

  “I’m ready. Just saying goodbye.”

  “Farewell, Khalla, chosen of the Goddess,” Xen’dex said formally. He came to stand beside Saskia and put an arm around her slender waist. “You are ever welcome in our domicile,” he told Emily.

  “Thank you.” Emily tried to smile at him but she was feeling stranger by the minute. Her breasts ached and there was a growing urgency between her legs that made it hard to think.

  “You have your coordinates?” Xen’dex asked, turning to Tragar.

  “I do.” The big Kindred nodded firmly. “We’ll take the Gatspian wormhole—it comes out only a few parsecs from Rageron. From there it should only take one solar night to get there.”

  “Very good,” Xen’dex said gravely. “But Tragar, a word of advice…even once you bring Emily before the Holy Council, you cannot consider your duty done. The voice witch—”

  “You mean Grandy See-er?” Emily asked. She felt a cold finger of dread run down her spine though she didn’t know why. “How can she hurt me? I mean, now that I got rid of her, er…devices.” Her face felt hot as she spoke but the tickle of unease at the back of her mind wouldn’t go away.

  “I don’t know if she could affect you from so far away or not.” Xen’dex looked troubled. “I only know that she has very potent magic.”