Chapter Seven
Jake shifted form, feeling first the telltale lightness of body, next the wooziness in his head—and then the ultra-heightened physical sensations that always came with assuming his formless Antousian state. No one could see him; he was nothing more than a ghost. But the result in his own essence was as if a thousand prickling dust particles were imploding against his transparent skin. As if light and heat were impaling him. Were he with a lover, it would be the most excruciatingly erotic proposition possible. And he'd been down that road too, he thought with a wave of melancholy that rolled through him. But there wasn't time for that kind of grief, not today.
Hurtling through the woods and up the mountainside, he focused on his mission. Every movement caused him pain and ecstasy all at once, a whirlwind of primal sensation. Ignore. Move. Act. He coached himself through the maneuver. No wonder he hated this Change of his so much. Hated it and craved it, too, a perverse mix of reactions to his formless capabilities.
He arrived outside the main cabin, interpreting his data. Jared was somewhere within … yes, in his main chambers; he easily sensed that fact. But alarmingly another reality practically speared his essence: Lieutenant Dillon was inside the main compound too. Damn, damn, damn, he cursed inwardly, no time to wait. Bolstering his resolve—and preparing for the peculiar physical sensation of passing through walls—he slipped into the cabin and plunged forward toward Jared's location.
Scott was flat on his back, staring at the wooden slats on the bunk above him, the one that Anna slept in every night. Vaguely, he wondered what it would be like for Hope having his fellow soldier and comrade as her roommate, what the two of them might share late at night when both were simply being women, not soldiers or FBI linguists or however else they defined themselves. They were bound to become friends—he knew they would get close, no way around it. With a shudder, he realized that Hope might share with Anna how their relationship was heating up.
Anna. The one woman in the ranks whom he'd ever tried to kiss—and who had laughed right in his face after the attempt. He could hardly blame her; none of the Refarians found him the least bit attractive; he'd figured that much out long ago. Why else would she have scoffed at his advances? Gods, please don't let Anna tell her that I'm an ugly son of a bitch. With Hope's near-blindness, he could at least maintain the illusion that he was a decent-looking guy. She already seemed to think so, a lucky enough break in his otherwise luckless life.
Stretching his legs, he winced in pain. Of course, Hope was absolutely right—he had no business being out of the hospital. But the thing was, he hadn't been able to stay there another moment; nor could he deal with Hope seeing him in such a powerless position. He was too restless, too edgy. And despite being a gazer—his one true gift from All, the gift of being able to see into people and situations—there was one damned thing he just couldn't lay hold of down in that rat hole. Where his future was heading: not with Hope, and definitely not in general. Getting out of the medical complex had been essential, but now that he was here in Hope's bed, the pain was descending upon him anew, threatening to devour him with its dark face of menace. Fumbling in his pants pocket, he found a bottle of pain pills and, popping the cap off, downed a few of them.
There, he thought. There. I'll just grab some sleep, and then everything will feel better. Just a little sleep, and maybe Hope will return. Maybe then I can figure out why I can't see my way through things right now.
As sleep began to take him, something unsettling made his eyes fly open. With a quick sniff of the atmosphere about them, he knew exactly what that thing was: the creeping, subtle scent of their enemy.
Jerking up in bed and staggering to his feet, he punched the comm on his forearm. "Jareshk!" he roared. "Intruder! We've been penetrated by the enemy! Jareshk, get to the bunker. Now!"
Nestled in the safety of their bed, Jared cradled Kelsey's naked body against his own. At the periphery of his dreamy awareness he thought he heard something, but then shook it off, slipping back into an exhausted, mating-induced slumber. But the noise was persistent, loud, and at last he opened his eyes. His comm was erupting in an almost unintelligible array of noisy chatter. Commands, orders, chaos.
Leaping to his feet, he took hold of his uniform jacket, fumbling with the comm and reaching for his pistol simultaneously.
"Bennett here," he called.
Scott's voice crackled back over the link, "Get to the bunker, Jared. Get to the bunker now."
Turning toward Kelsey, he tossed her clothes to her; she sat up in bed, disoriented from interrupted sleep. He motioned for her to dress as he answered Dillon, "What's happened?"
This time Thea replied. "I'm on the way to him. Marco is with me. Jared, stay where you are—we will get you into the bunker. Stay."
"Get the hell out of there," Dillon contradicted, and buzzing mayhem erupted again. Jared pulled on his pants with one movement and took position in front of their chamber door.
"Kelsey, go to the closet and stay there," he commanded calmly. "But whatever happens, do not move. Not a muscle. Go!"
She stared at him for a split second, stunned, so he thundered, "Go now, Kelse! Now, now, now!"
"Okay," she said numbly, rushing past him toward the other part of their bedroom. "I'm moving, but what's happening?" He could sense the fear in her usually strong voice.
"You will be safe, love. I promise you that." He didn't want to terrify her; nor did he wish to tell her that no intruder, not once, had ever made it past their security force before now.
"And what about you?" she called from the next room.
"I'm not going anywhere." He tilted his chin up, assumed a firing stance aimed at the door, and added, "And I'll be damned if any enemy makes it past me, either."
Jake Tierny slid within Jared Bennett's chamber, soundless. Formless. And found himself eye-to-eye with his beloved king. Young, still handsome, and with a weapon trained right on Jake, looking for all the world like he would blow Jake to pieces the moment he materialized. Bad strategy, perhaps, this plan, he thought, swirling past the commander. Jared swung his weapon, first in one direction, then another. The man was a high-level intuitive, at least in the future. Back here in their past, not so much.
But he clearly sensed Jake's presence, even as Jake swirled past him invisibly, taking a position by the hearth. With a prayer to All for protection, he materialized on the far side of the room and shouted simultaneously, "Hold fire, Commander!" The words came out slightly garbled because he wasn't even finished with his Change when he shouted them.
Not that his words mattered, because Jared did, in fact, fire upon him—several quick rounds from his pulse pistol that sent Jake ducking behind the large sleigh bed. "Jared, wait! Hold up! I'm not your enemy. I'm your friend. Hold fire!"
"Like hell you are, vlksai!"
Another few sparking rounds whined past Jake's head, and he hunkered even lower against the hardwood floor.
"I used the mitres to come back in time," Jake rushed to explain. "I am here to protect you, not bring you harm, I assure you." A rough growl was the king's only reply, along with his running boot steps. Any minute and Jake would be toast. "I'm here with a warning! Jareshk, listen to me. Gods, you can trust me!"
The butt of Jared's pistol cracked into Jake's skull, filling his eyes with bright spots. "I don't trust any of your kind," Jared snarled at him.
"Lieutenant Dillon," Jake barely managed to grunt. "You trust him."
"With my life," his king answered intently. "With my very life. But you, vlksai, are not him."
Of course he wasn't Dillon, and explaining precisely who he was—and why Jared should trust him—suddenly seemed an impossible task.
So he said the only thing that came to mind: "An enemy is traveling back from the future. I'm here to stop him. If you don't trust me, you'll regret it."
"Which enemy?" Jared asked coolly, jamming the barrel of his pistol into the base of Jake's skull.
"Marco McKinley. He w
as your protector in the future, but he betrayed you. And he's on his way here to destroy you. All of you."
A deep, gravelly voice surprised Jake in answer. "That's funny. Because I'm here right now, and I think Jared would attest to my loyalty."
Jake jerked hard at the familiar voice that was so recognizable, so very familiar—that of Marco McKinley. Jared's once and future protector, the man who had betrayed them, turned rogue enemy all the way. But that was later, not here, not now. How to answer? How to fucking answer? Jake had no clue, but it was Jared who responded instead. "What is the meaning of all of this?"
Jake wondered if his king was truly asking his intentions, or merely reflecting aloud about the strange improbability of it all. Marco had never been in the ranks this soon; he hadn't arrived until two years after now. The whole turn of events was beyond comprehension.
"If you'd let me up," Jake ventured, "I can explain."
"Wouldn't you just like that," Marco shot back at him.
"No, I'm curious," Jared answered with surprising calm. "Let's hear him out. What he says about you traveling from the future has me very interested. On your feet, Antousian!"
Thea sprinted into Jared's chambers and found a stranger kneeling in front of Jared and Marco, hands fastened behind his back. He didn't look any more like an enemy than the countless other Antousian hybrids they'd battled. He was unusually large, with a bulky, muscular frame that seemed too massive to be easily contained no matter how many weapons they had on him. And when he swiveled his gaze upon her, she realized he had startling, bright green eyes that stood in stark contrast to his much darker olive skin and almost-black hair. Strange, but his didn't seem the eyes of a bloodthirsty enemy; they seemed … lost. Haunted. And they didn't mirror death and destruction, not like the eyes of most Antousians she'd ever seen.
She took position beside Jared and Marco. "Who is he?" She glanced among them all.
"An enemy," Marco answered simply, his stance beside Jared highly protective; he'd positioned himself between the intruder and their king. Of course, as Jared's Madjin there was no other way Marco would behave in a moment of intense conflict like this one.
"I'm not the enemy in your midst, Your Majesty," the stranger answered calmly, eyeing Marco with a look that could kill a legion of soldiers. He nodded toward Marco. "Now, he, on the other hand, will betray you like the coldblooded traitor he is at heart. As certain as I'm kneeling here, he's your enemy, not I, my king."
Thea shuddered. Marco would never betray Jared, not in this timeline, and not ever again. But then the stranger glanced at her and said, "And that little mlaisha is the worst of all. She wants to destroy you, my king. Betrayers are among you. Hear me!"
Thea lunged at the man, grabbing hold of his throat. "Want to say that again?" she growled. "I love my cousin. I love my king, and I would never harm him. How dare you?"
"You did it," the intruder answered, giving his neck a jerk, but she tightened her grip. "You want to know exactly what you do? Because I'll tell you how you bring down your own people—"
"Enough!" Jared cut him off with a roar. "Enough. We already know what the future could bring."
"You think you do," the man began, and this time Jared stepped around Marco. He pressed the barrel of his gun against the Antousian's head, dropping to his haunches beside him, inspecting the stranger.
"I said enough!" Jared insisted. "Silence."
But then, almost as if in slow motion, the intruder took hold of Jared's weapon, twisting it, and turned it upon him. One moment the man's hands had been bound, and now the worst was happening: Their king was on the receiving end of a pulse gun. Marco made a move, and the enemy hissed, "Stand down. Stand the fuck down if you want your king to live."
As one, Thea and Marco backed away, each holding their hands up. "Calm down," Thea said quietly. "Everyone calm down."
Her eyes locked with Marco's, and she heard his thoughts within her mind: We have to get Jared to safety. Reinforcements are coming—I hear them—but we have no time to lose. There was the sound of loud footsteps of troops on the stairs.
What about Kelsey? Thea questioned frantically. Where is she? At this time of night there was nowhere else their queen would be than right here with Jared. Thea's heart constricted, fear for her new friend and queen almost overwhelming her ability to think clearly. But she forced herself to zero in on current events, to bring every minute detail into sharp focus, including her own mate's mind and thoughts.
A shadow passed over Marco's features, an expression that signaled the use of his empathic abilities. In the closet, came Marco's strained reply. By the gods, we have to turn this situation around.
Jake had the gun, but he was the one they had cornered, period. And if Dillon arrived, this skirmish would be over before it had begun.
"All I want, my lord, is for you to hear me out," Jake began, hating himself for even holding a weapon against his king. "I have not come to harm you, but to warn you. I serve you. Only you."
"I've never seen you before in my life." Jared grunted at him, eyeing him harshly. "You claim you are a friend, yet look—you have a weapon at my temple. Trust isn't built when weapons are drawn."
"I did not draw the first weapon, my lord." Jake gave a slight bow of his head, holding the weapon firmly.
"Tell me who you are," Jared commanded. "Right now you are a stranger."
"In the future I am your most loyal servant and lieutenant."
"An Antousian hybrid, loyal to me?" Jared laughed coolly. "I find that highly improbable."
"Yet you have kept Lieutenant Dillon in your ranks for many years."
"He is my lifelong friend."
"I become your friend in our shared future. There is a group of us, a small band of Antousian rebels who are loyal to you, and I command them all. I used the mitres to come back and warn you … with your own approval."
Jared glanced sideways, acknowledging the pistol Jake had trained against his head. "How did I give this approval?"
Jake couldn't help but flinch; it had never been supposed to go this way. Quietly he said, "You agreed with me that it was the only way."
"From what time do you come?"
"Ten years in the future." Jake watched as Jared's gaze moved to Thea, and then to Marco. "You seem surprised—or maybe not at all."
"We have already been visited from that time," was all Jared told him, his eyes blazing with fury and something else, something Jake couldn't interpret.
"Already?" Jake asked, shocked to the marrow. They had set the mitres correctly, placing him here—they were almost certain—ahead of Marco's arrival from their own time.
"A battle has been waged and won, vlksai. Which rather leads me to question your purpose in coming here."
"Put me in confinement, then, and I'll tell you the full story, my lord. I beg you—just hear me out."
"Hear you out? A man who has a weapon at my head?"
Jake lowered his pistol and dropped to his knees. He placed one fist over his heart, showing his deep, monumental loyalty to the king before him, and whispered, "I surrender."
Scott worked his way down the stairs, holding the railing and groaning in pain with every partially drug-numbed step he took. Leaning on his crutch, he called into his comm, requesting an update on the crisis.
"We have him in custody," came Marco's terse reply. "He's going to the brig."
With a shallow breath, Scott managed, "Good. Almost … there."
When he finally arrived at the landing just outside of Jared's chambers, a fit of dizziness overtook him. He gripped the railing, seeing spots in front of his eyes, and gave his head a shake. Not now. Anything but right now, he prayed. All, help me.
But then it wasn't just darkness or even pain; it was the world rent open, shattered as he staggered toward the open doorway, and the entire Earth dropped out from beneath him. A great wind began to whip against his face, like ten gs of gravity, like being in the midst of the mitres when it was fully powered.
/> "What the hell .…" he muttered, sinking to his knees. He tried to speak, to call out, but it was as if a massive hurricane had unleashed upon them all. It was the vlksai intruder,some trick of his—had to be, he thought, taking hold of his weapon and crawling the rest of the way toward the open door.
"Jareshk!" he cried, needing to know that his king was okay. "Commander—are you …" The universe seemed to unzip, right then and there, as he sensed and felt a formless Antousian hurtle past him. The hair on his head stood on end, and all he could do was gape as the entity sped right out of his grasp. "Get him! Reinforcements!" he shouted into his comm, the great wind intensifying, but then—inexplicably—dying down completely.
For one long, endless moment Scott lay on the steps gasping, trying to find his strength. What he'd experienced as the vlksai had sped past him defied anything he'd ever known in the presence of his own kind before. Did that intensity signal greater power? More menacing intent? He wasn't sure, but there was only one man in the whole compound with a prayer of stopping that enemy. Himself.
Chapter Eight
Hope returned to the medical station desk and was relieved to find Shelby Tyler on duty there. During Scott's stay she'd gotten to know Nurse Tyler pretty well, and had felt a real affinity for the woman. She was a sassy girlfriend type, with a Texas accent (how did that make sense in an alien?), and a habit of offering unsolicited advice ("He's been having these dreams, and personally I think that .…"). Hope couldn't help herself: She had something of a girl crush going on Shelby Tyler, and felt happier the minute she heard her twangy voice from across the nurse's station entry.
"I can't believe he did it," Shelby announced before Hope had even reached her. It was slow going with her new cane, but at least it was easier than walking down here based on eyesight alone.
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