Dumbfounded, Jake gaped at the soldier. Anna had always been his friend, had been loyal and devoted, especially after Hope's death. But this woman had no memory of that; this was the woman he'd kissed not so long ago in this world, and who had laughed in his face. It was a reaction that had hurt him deeply—not so much because he had cared for her romantically, but because it made him feel dreadfully ugly. Awkward. Hybrid, from the top of his head to the leather in his boots, and like the last sort of man any of their female ranks would want to claim as mate.
"I'm on the right track, aren't I?" she pressed, her large dark eyes narrowing on him.
There was no reason to hide the truth anymore; Hope knew his terrible, sordid secret, and now this friend had intuited the facts as well. "You're on it."
"Then, sir, how about you tell me one sure fact that will prove you're who I think you are."
He stared at the polished floor of the chamber. "Why does it matter?" he asked, suddenly more exhausted and worn down than he'd ever felt, not even during the endless days of their endless war.
She stamped her boots in exasperation. "Because you're either my enemy or you're my very good friend. I need to know which one for sure. You owe me that."
"Okay, I can prove it with certainty." Even now, it was an embarrassing thing to discuss, but nobody else would have this particular kernel of knowledge, the one he could use to authenticate his identity. He sucked in a breath and then rushed out his confession on a quick exhale. "When we first arrived on this planet, you and I were on a surveillance mission. The night just went on and on, nothing much happening," he said. "It was hotter than hell, too, a big heat wave going on. So … I kissed you." She flushed instantly, chewing her lip. "I kissed you because, you know, I really had a thing for you back then. But you know what you did? You laughed at my advances."
Anna closed her eyes. "My gods."
"Yeah, you laughed in my face, and it led me to a pretty strong conclusion: that my fair-skinned human looks didn't do one thing for my Refarian comrades. I started looking for companionship among the humans right after that. Night after night, bar after bar."
She rushed him, flinging her arms about his neck. "Oh, gods, Scott. What have you been through?" she whispered, holding him tight. It was utterly unexpected, such an outpouring of emotion; Anna was a smart-ass, hardened soldier. Slowly he closed his hands around her back.
"I've been through hell," he whispered. The embrace felt so good, so comforting.
Slowly she released him, staring right up into his eyes. "And that kiss? Sweet gods of the universe, how could you have ever thought I was ridiculing you?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "Urn, because you laughed? Right in my face, as a matter of fact. I know I wasn't a gorgeous guy, especially not to our people. I've always been a vlksai cuss, and half-human at that. It wasn't a pretty sight, and I'm not stupid; I got it. No wonder you laughed."
She regarded him for a long moment, then gently touched his cheek. "You really don't know, do you?" He shrugged, confused, and she continued. "You really have no idea how beautiful you are. How beautiful we all think you are—every single woman under your command?"
He felt his face grow hot. "Don't stroke my ego, not now, Anna. Besides, I'm not that man anymore. You can see that just by looking at me."
This time she was the one who blushed, and dropped her gaze. "I laughed because I thought you handsome," she explained quietly. "You were my friend, Scott." She lifted her gaze, searching his face as if she needed him to understand. "And I laughed because no man—not in the ranks or back home or anywhere—had ever once kissed me. I was such a trembling little virgin in those days, I had no idea what to do, especially not with a real man like you."
It was the last thing in the universe he'd expected. "That can't be true."
"No, it is true." She shook her head vehemently. "I had the biggest crush on you, but you were my commanding officer. My friend. I was scared to death of you, too, because I didn't know you very well yet."
Slowly he backed away from her, fiddling with his handheld all over again. Strange, but his face burned and he felt inexplicably awkward, and just couldn't look into her eyes.
"So you believe me about who I really am, then?" he murmured.
"Scott, yes, of course I believe you. There's no other way you could have known about that kiss."
"One of your friends might have told me," he disagreed, still training his gaze downward.
"I never told anyone." Her voice was hushed, sincere.
"Neither did I." The blush on his face deepened, even though it wasn't from attraction to Anna, not at this point, with so much behind them.
"Well, now that I've confirmed your identity, Dillon, we've got to find a way to get out of this place and save their asses."
"Look, I'm not Dillon anymore—that's really important to me." He dared to meet her gaze. "I'm Jakob Tierny. It's the only name I've gone by ever since.…"
"He's the man whose body you took?"
He nodded, swallowing. "I'll save that story for another time."
"No matter. If you did it, there was a good reason." She stuck her stubborn chin into the air. "I'm already settled about that fact."
"You seem to have a lot of faith in me."
"Always well-placed, sir, always. And I know you'll help us figure this crisis out."
Hope sank into her seat aboard the Antousian battle cruiser. Scott was buckled in beside her, both hands bound, as were her own. They'd allowed her to down a package of crackers and some juice; her test strip had shown what she already knew: that her glucose levels had dipped low. If they didn't let her eat a real meal soon, though, her levels would get seriously out of control.
And when they'd let her have the pack, she'd implemented the one safety valve she figured she and Scott had going for them: She'd powered up her phone where it was secretly stashed in a hidden pouch within the pack. Thank God the alien goon who'd inspected it hadn't discovered her slim cell. It was the latest government-issue, and super lightweight; otherwise it would undoubtedly have been discovered. She only hoped that at this altitude the FBI could still get a reading on her signal; coverage in midair was usually so unreliable, cutting in and out, if she got any signal at all. Still, maybe if fate had decided to be kind just this once, they had a prayer of getting some help.
"Where are we?" she asked Scott under her breath. Beside her, she could feel his body heat, could sense the way he struggled within his bonds.
"Heading straight into the stratosphere, most likely. Nobody will ever get to us up here, and that's the way these freaks want it."
Thinking of her cell signal, she felt a wave of nausea overcome her. "What're the specs on this thing?"
He pushed his shoulder against hers significantly, falling quiet as one of the Antousians walked past where they sat. Beneath her, all around her, she could hear and feel vibrations. An engine, powerful, rumbled throughout the whole craft. Somewhere near them a door slid open, then immediately closed. After that, silence. Scott still waited, and then leaned much closer toward her ear. She closed her eyes, catching his scent.
"It's a powerful, massive battle cruiser," he whispered. "Like the one they put in position over Warren. A real beast."
"What do they want with us?"
He blew out a hesitant breath, then replied, "To drain us of every last bit of intel we might possess. Then kill us—me especially."
She jerked her head toward him. "Why especially you?" Her voice sounded overwrought, emotional; the idea of Scott dying made her feel just that way, so what was the point of pretending?
Scott pressed his forehead lightly against hers; it killed her that she couldn't touch him, couldn't reach for his hand. For the moment this was the extent of their ability to connect physically, and being unable to see much tore her apart inside.
"Because aside from Jared Bennett," he told her quietly, "I'm the number one guy on Veckus's kill list. He's the guy in charge of their Earth strategies. And no other
creature has ever despised me as much as he. I'm a turn-coat in his mind, remember. A traitor to the vlksai race."
She pressed her eyes shut, willing the entire moment to be nothing more than a nightmare, one of their shared dreams gone awry. "We can't let him hurt you."
Scott nuzzled her gently. "I doubt we've got much choice right now, sweetheart, but I'm open to any ideas."
At that precise moment the sound of heavy footsteps filled the area around them as several people marched up to them. "Separate!" a voice she recognized as belonging to Kryn called out. "Who put these two right together like this?" All at once rough hands took hold of her, jabbing at her restraints, and she was splayed face-first in the aisle.
"Go easy on her!" Scott yelled. "Your beef's not with her but with me."
Hope drew up on her knees, shaking her head to clear it as Kryn laughed. "Well, we already know that you're into the little human, so I'd say she's exactly the one we should focus on … Lieutenant."
With that, Hope found herself being hustled down the aisle and into a small side compartment, thrust down on a bench seat. The door closed, and Kryn stood before her. Hope sucked at air, trying to think, but she feared that if things kept up like this, she was going to be in a world of hurt with her diabetes.
"What do you want with me?" she demanded of the other woman. "I don't know a thing! I've told you that already."
Kryn dropped down in front of her, leaning close enough that Hope could almost see her. "Cutie, all I want is for your boyfriend to talk. We've been after Dillon for a long time, and right now I see you as the best avenue for that."
Hope began to tremble. "If I can't keep up with my meds.…"
But Kryn cut her off. "I'll make sure you get what you need."
"Why?" Hope asked, unable to contain her surprise.
Kryn extended her hand, feeling for Hope's until they made a connection. "Kryn Zoltners," she announced. "And you are…?"
Something weird and instinctual—that same old voice that had guided her all along—led her to say, "Hope Harper."
"Hope, if you don't know about the virus that destroyed the majority of my people, then you don't know a hell of a lot about this war. I've had far too many friends—terribly sick friends—who relied on medication not to take pity on a prisoner of war like you."
With that the woman rose abruptly and exited the room, not speaking another word.
"Where are you transporting us?" Dillon stared down the tall brunette soldier, the one he'd heard referred to as Kryn. For several seconds her hate-filled gaze locked with his while she stood in front of him, and without taking her eyes off of him, she slid into the seat harness across the aisle.
"You'll see when we arrive there, won't you?"
"Hours? Days? Months?" His mind reeled with the possibility that they might even deport him back to Refaria, thereby separating him from his commander right when Jared needed his counsel the most.
Kryn's lips turned upward into a cautious smile. "You will see." Her voice was heavily accented, like that of so many Antousians raised back on Refaria. Many of them no longer even spoke their native language, but relied entirely on the verbal currency that was still the mainstay back home. Refaria … home. That was ultimately what this war was all about: which one of their warring species had the right to call that planet home.
And he knew all too well the kind of very explicit torture Veckus Densalt was capable of whenever he took rebel forces prisoner. Scott cringed, remembering the punishments that Veckus had personally meted out against Jared during his brief captivity several years earlier. His king had been bruised, bloodied, his entire body shattered from top to bottom. More than that, something in Jared's spirit had been broken during those three days, something Scott hadn't seen fully restored until his best friend had bonded with Kelsey. Years it had taken the man to recover. So what might Veckus do now that he and Hope had fallen into his vile clutches? Especially to a fellow Antousian like himself?
Scott kept his expression placid, even though inside, his mind whirled with anxiety and the terrible possibilities. Why, by the gods, had Hope managed to wander into this mess?
He tried a new tack. "What are you doing to Ms. Harper? Where did you escort her?"
Kryn folded both arms over her chest, glancing upward at the ceiling; Scott's gaze tracked with hers, only to discover a small electronic eye above them. They were being watched—hell, Veckus himself was undoubtedly observing these proceedings. Still, it was curious that Kryn had made such a point of revealing that fact.
Slowly, she resumed studying him. "Ms. Harper will not be harmed, Lieutenant. All right?"
"She needs to eat soon or she'll be in serious trouble."
Kryn gave a brisk nod, waved her hand, and from behind a closed door a soldier appeared. They spoke quietly in Refarian, and then the man disappeared once again. "Done."
That she was being so agreeable and helpful did nothing to dispel his fears. It only meant that the games had yet to truly begin. "Thank you." He gave a courteous bow of his head.
"You are welcome. And if you cooperate, Ms. Harper will continue to be fed, allowed her medication, and treated well. If you do not?" She gave an indifferent shrug. "Things will grow far more complicated for your little human friend."
"I want to see Veckus." He kept his voice commanding, cool, but his heart slammed hard within his chest. His mouth was dry with fear—and he was plenty tough after a near-lifetime of fighting. "He and I have a lot to discuss. We might as well start that process right now."
"On his timetable, not yours." She rose to her feet again, stepping closer into his physical space. Then, in a very low voice, she said, "Be wise, Lieutenant. Play the game." She narrowed her eyes meaningfully. "Play the game … with me." Her last words were whispered under her breath.
He frowned, not sure what her cryptic warning meant, and then just as quickly she spun on her heel, marching up the aisle away from him.
Jake wanted to whoop in victory; the data codes had uploaded freely, allowing them to step through inter-dimensional space and to the exterior of the mitres chamber. Anna rubbed at her head, giving it a light shake. "That's one heck of a mental vacuum cleaner." She looked up into his eyes. "Was that my imagination, or did I just see some of your life in the future? Some of my own past?"
Jake nodded, walking out to the edge of the trailhead. The truth was that the mitres served as an overlapping filmstrip of memories and possible futures; as he and Anna had journeyed through the portal, he'd glimpsed and felt memories that had almost been more than he could bear.
"Jake? Did you see stuff, too?" She wasn't going to let it go. She had never been one to let much of anything go.
"Just bits of my life, that's all. Look, we've got to get busting down this trail, see if we can get a lead on where they've taken Scott and Hope."
Anna grabbed him by the arm. "You know they're long gone, or waiting in ambush for us. The best thing we can do is let me signal the transport and put all of our firepower behind that search."
A stab of anxiety shot through Jake's heart. "And who's going to believe my identity … beyond you?"
Anna squinted at the bright sunlight reflecting off the snow. "Jared's your best friend; the very best friend you've ever had. If I believed you, don't you think he will?"
Jake holstered his weapon. "There's no time to wait. I've gotta go check out what's down at the end of that trail." He began hustling over the slippery incline, and Anna called after him.
"If you get yourself captured, too, there won't be a damn thing you can do to help her. Or him."
Jake slid to a halt. Of course she was right, but letting Hope go—letting go of the possibility that he might still stop her vlksai captors—went against every instinct inside of him. As a husband, as a soldier … and as Scott Dillon's dark twin.
Behind him he heard Anna radioing the transport. Stubborn as could be, that woman was … and for once he was thankful for that fact.
Almost im
mediately the transport swooped low, sidling up to the cliffs. The running boards extended, allowing for a platform and, ducking low against the churning wind created by the craft, both Jake and Anna scrambled into the opened hatch.
Anna was shouting something over the noise, but he couldn't understand what. So he focused instead on just getting inside the transport without getting himself shot. No sooner had he placed his boots inside than several pairs of strong hands took hold of him, throwing him to the ground.
"Hold off! Hold!" Anna yelled as he felt the barrel of a K-12 burrow into the base of his spine.
"I'm holding." He recognized the husky voice of Marco McKinley. "But I want to make sure that this man"—he jabbed him with his weapon—"and our commander have a proper chance to talk first."
After running in circles, and losing Hope in the process, Jake had effectively landed right back where he'd begun: at the end of Marco's weapon, with Jared Bennett's boots walking slowly toward him.
Rotating his head slightly, he got a fix on Anna, who had dropped down low beside him. "What were you saying when we boarded this thing?" He grunted, feeling the pressure of Marco's knee drive into his back.
She smiled. "That this wasn't the craft we'd arrived in. Sir."
"No, indeed not," Jared interrupted, coming to a stop right beside Jake's prone body. "This I had to come and see for myself. A skirmish in Yellowstone—in the wide-open public? This has to be the sloppiest, most ill-thought-out plan I've ever observed."
"Please, Commander, just let me up," Jake argued. "I'll explain everything."
Jared laughed low in his throat. "I believe I've already heard that once from you. Twice, and I'll have to require that you be held in this transport's brig until we return to base. There, we will talk. But not before."
"Tell me just one thing—anything—that will make me believe you're who you claim to be."
Jake sat across the table from Jared and Kelsey in the main meeting room at the bottom of Base Ten. Everything depended upon this moment, upon gaining their faith and confidence. Without Jared's support, he would never be able to help free Hope and Scott; more than that, there were critical warnings Jake could issue about the future now that he had Jared's ear. Maybe, just maybe, this whole seemingly pointless venture would be worth more than medshki after all. But only if he could get Jared to really listen.
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