Mystic Militia

by Cyndi Friberg

  Shaking away the disquieting tangent, she set herself back in motion. Like the rest of the apartment the bedroom was small and common. The bed was made, but Tori was embarrassed to realize the faded quilt was the one they’d brought with them from San Diego. Interior design was obviously not a priority for Angie.

  Lor didn’t seem to notice the shabby excuse for decorating. He glanced at the bed then took in the other furniture—what little there was of it—with a calm, assessing gaze. “Are any of her clothes missing?”

  “That’s where I was headed.” Great minds think alike sounded way to cliché.

  She pulled open the rickety closet door and flipped through the hangers. It was hard to say. Most of Angie’s clothes were similar. She was partial to tunics and skinny jeans. “I’m not sure.” She dug a little deeper and changed her mind. “Her favorite boots and her ‘go to’ shoes are gone. So is her overnight bag.” She turned and looked at him as she exhaled. “She didn’t take much, but she definitely packed for the trip. Doesn’t sound like a kidnapping to me.”

  Lor clasped his hands behind his back as he battled his need to touch Tori. He could still remember how she’d felt beneath him, arching and twisting, her body all soft curves and welcoming heat. Welcoming? He smiled at the irony. She’d been anything but welcoming since she walked into her sister’s apartment, but he couldn’t fault her hostility. He was the intruder, the potential threat to Tori’s loved one.

  “I need to make a call.” He left Tori near the sleeping station and returned to the slightly larger outer room. He launched a mindlink with Allenton and waited for the Shadow Assassin to open his end of the connection.

  I’m here. Go ahead. Allenton’s signal was faint but understandable. The Shadow Assassin had an impressive store of untapped potential. All he needed was time with skillful trainers who could teach him how to control his latent abilities. In the world below, the occupants had only been taught how to hunt and fight—and seduce their captive females.

  The sister interrupted my search. I’ve questioned her briefly, but it’s unlikely she knows Angie’s location. We’ve discovered indications that Angie departed voluntarily. Have you learned anything at the club?

  Angie is involved with one of the door guards. I believe his name is Bouncer.

  Lor smiled at the misconception. Bouncer is likely his job title not his name. Was he helpful?

  He’s been absent for the past two days. I’m starting to suspect the two are together.

  Did Tori know about her sister’s boyfriend? She hadn’t mentioned the likelihood that Angie had sneaked away for a romantic encounter, but then Tori had said very little even after agreeing to cooperate with him. If she’s out of town as the bartender said, Angie couldn’t have been the woman you saw in the casino.

  Not true. Bouncer has only been gone for two days. Angie could have departed after she spoke with Nazerel. This proves nothing.

  Lor rubbed his forehead and consciously relaxed his jaw. Allenton was like a dog with his favorite bone, snarling and growling and shaking his head. We have concluded that Angie is not currently in Los Vegas. Would you agree?

  Rather than commit, Allenton asked, Is the sister still with you?

  She is.

  Keep her there. I want to show her what I saw.

  Before Lor could point out that the vast majority of humans couldn’t transmit or receive telepathic information, Allenton pinched off the connection. “Prezot.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  Lor snapped his head around and found Tori lounging in the doorway to the sleeping area. Her shoulder rested against the privacy panel’s frame and speculation gleamed in her light brown eyes. “Just an annoyance.”

  “I thought you were going to make a phone call.”

  How long had she been standing there? “No signal.” He offered with a diverting shrug.

  One of her silky brows arched. “Where’s your phone?”

  He motioned to the audiocom nestled in his ear. It was smaller than most of Earth’s communication devices, but similar enough to avert suspicion.

  “Not your ear piece, your phone. Where’s the part that does the work.”

  She was much too observant for his peace of mind. “Fine. You caught me.” He tried to look embarrassed when all he really wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss the curiosity out of her. “I must have left it in the bar. I didn’t realize it was gone until I tried to place the call.”

  A firm knock on the door interrupted whatever she was about to say. Lor was thankful for the interruption, but what Allenton intended was going to be even more awkward than trying to explain how they’d been communicating without benefit of telephones.

  She rushed past him and grasped the handle on the privacy panel. Then she paused and peered through the tiny magnification lens. A primitive precaution, but effective. “It’s your friend. Should I let him in?”

  Lor nodded. “I was expecting him.”

  “Really? Do you often issue invitations to other people’s apartments?” She deactivated the locking mechanism and pulled the panel aside.

  Lor just smiled as Allenton stepped into the dwelling.

  “I am Allenton.” Rather than offer his hand, he inclined his head. “How much has my companion told you?”

  Tori stared at Allenton, shock and confusion clear on her delicate features. She looked at Lor, rubbed her eyes then looked back at Allenton. “What is it with you two?” The question sounded offhanded, as if she was talking to herself.

  She’d had a similar reaction when she looked into the mirror. Ontarian females found Allenton attractive and the same had seemed to hold true since their arrival on Earth. Tori’s reaction, however, indicated fear not approval or sexual interest. Unwilling to ignore her behavior a second time, Lor asked, “What are you seeing when you look at us?”

  Her mouth opened then closed and she shook her head and averted her gaze. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

  “That’s what you said when you looked into the mirror.” He moved closer, waiting until her gaze returned to his. “It might be important. Tell me what’s happening.”

  She blew out a breath and crossed her arms. Rubbing her hands up and down, she was clearly debating what to tell him. “In the casino, when I first noticed you, I felt this strange rush of heat. I thought it was just because you’re…” She made an awkward gesture toward his face, “Better looking than the average tourist, but when you grabbed me, it felt like an electric current passed from your body into mine.”

  Lor looked at Allenton. The Shadow Assassin’s amused smirk had become something far more dangerous.

  Is she a reader?

  Lor wasn’t familiar with the term, so he didn’t reply. Instead, he asked Tori, “And just now? What did you see when you looked at Allenton?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” Her hands rubbed her upper arms again.

  “Try.” Allenton’s directive sounded more like a command than an encouragement.

  Tori stepped closer to Lor. It was unlikely she even realized she’d moved. More than happy to be her protector, Lor slipped his arm around her shoulders. She shivered as she angled toward him. “Did I just shock you again?”

  “Yes. It’s not painful, just strange.” She looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Do you know why it’s happening?”

  “I might, but tell me about Allenton first. What happened when you looked at him?”

  She rested her hand against his chest, the contact so light he was convinced the touch wasn’t intentional. “It was like a high-speed commercial or a movie trailer. A bunch of images flashed into my mind and then I saw another man’s face. He looked sort of like Allenton only meaner, much much meaner.”

  “Nazerel,” Allenton muttered.

  Lor looked at him and said, “You are obsessed with him.”

  “I thought humans couldn’t read minds.”

  Lor warned him to watch what he said with an impatient glare and a telepathic shove. “
Don’t you mean Americans?” He smiled at Tori and tried to minimize the damage. “He’s still struggling with the nuances of English. It’s a tricky language.”

  She finally realized she was touching him and took a step away. Lor reluctantly lowered his arm. It felt natural to touch and defend her. He enjoyed the attention of females, had been a self-confessed flirt his entire adult life, but this felt different somehow, more elemental, more serious.

  Allenton moved toward them, his expression calm, gaze determined. “I head an investigative team that utilizes lesser known techniques to solve especially complex cases.”

  “Oh, you mean like breaking and entering?”

  Her spirit returned and Lor smiled, but every muscle in Allenton’s body tensed in response to her sarcasm. Clearly the Shadow Assassin wasn’t used to disrespectful females. But then Allenton wasn’t used to dealing with females in general. “He means something even more unconventional than my criminal tendencies.”

  “I can’t wait to see where this is going.” Lor recognized her provocation for what it was, bravado rooted in fear. She was in trouble and she knew it.

  Lor angled his body so he could more easily intercept Allenton if he charged the mouthy human. Hoping to defuse the escalation, Lor explained, “We were each recruited because of our unusual talents. Allenton is able to push images into others’ minds. It’s painless and won’t harm you in any way. Will you allow him to do this?”

  “What does he want to show me?” She only crossed one arm this time, grabbing her opposite elbow.

  “He wants to show you the person he believes is your sister,” Allenton responded, annoyance clear in every syllable.

  Tori swallowed hard and looked at Allenton. “You can really do that?”

  His lips curved into a faint smile. “I really can.”

  “All you’ll do is show me an image? You won’t screw around with my brain?”

  Awareness flared in Allenton’s gaze, the blue rings growing brighter. “I prefer to keep my ‘screwing around’ in the physical realm.”

  “Glad to hear it.” She looked back at Lor, searching for something in his gaze. “Are you sure he won’t hurt me?”

  Why is she so trusting of you? What did you do to her before I arrived?

  Treated her with respect. Lor kept the thought to himself. “He won’t hurt you.” I won’t let him. He shoved the warning into Allenton’s mind like a sword thrust.

  Rather than becoming angry, Allenton chuckled. I knew Mystics were territorial, but do you always move this fast? Then to Tori, “If it was not your sister I saw, we will be on our way.”

  “All right.” Tori took a deep breath and faced Allenton. After one final rub, she lowered her hand and lightly clenched her fists.

  Allenton closed the space between them and pressed his hand against the side of her face. “Close your eyes and don’t resist. It won’t hurt unless you fight me.”

  Lor cringed. How often did Shadow Assassins use that line on their captive females? Resentment festered despite his determination to keep his personal feelings separated from his professional obligations. He’d known Echo her entire life. His feelings for her weren’t romantic, more like a close friend or big brother, but it bothered him to think of her under the power of one of these cowards. Echo insisted that she was in love with Varrik, that he’d taken nothing she wasn’t willing to give. Still, Lor couldn’t help wondering what Varrik had done to create those feelings in her.

  “Oh,” Tori gasped. “It’s like a movie. Can you change the camera angle or zoom in on their faces?”

  “It’s a memory, not an entertainment vid. I can only show you what I saw.”

  Secretly glad for the excuse to join the meld, Lor pressed in tighter to Tori’s side. “I can assist. If you both agree.”

  I didn’t realize you had sweeper training, Allenton muttered.

  I’m a Master Level mage, Lor reminded. My training is far more extensive than yours.

  Allenton’s only response was an impatient glare, so Lor wrapped his fingers around the back of Tori’s neck. He’d progressed beyond the need for physical contact many solar cycles ago. Still, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to touch her. Her nape was warm, the fine hairs soft against his palm, yet tension rolled beneath his fingers. She was even more uneasy than she appeared.

  “Relax. No harm will come to you as long as I’m here.”

  Chapter Three

  Sevrin turned from her workstation as someone knocked on the door to her office. The door was open, but her houseguest knew better than to enter her presence without permission. “Come in.”

  Nazerel stepped into the sunny space. His military bearing clashed with the overtly feminine décor. Even dressed in jeans and a T-shirt he looked fierce and unapproachable. He was the smartest of the alpha hunters and the hardest to control. She wasn’t sure if he went out of his way to provoke her or if he was just naturally obstinate, but their conversations had a way of deteriorating into arguments.

  “You wanted to see me.” He stood near the open doorway with his hands behind his back. Was he afraid of breaking something or was he worried that the cheerful surroundings might rub off on him?

  “I did. Or actually I still do.” He didn’t react to her smile, so she pushed away from her desk and stood. The holodisplay blinked off, leaving the appearance of a human computer on a nondescript desk. The chances of discovery were minimal, but she never took unnecessary chances.

  The alpha hunters had arrived ten days ago with their chosen teams. They’d been excited and rambunctious for the first few days, then they began to realize just how dependent they were on her. Which, of course, was the way she’d planned it. She’d promised them new identities, new lives. She intended to keep the promise, but it took time, and obscene amounts of cash, to procure believable documentation. Eventually the three groups of men would move into separate houses in different cities, but first they had to acclimate themselves to Earth.

  She’d leased a rundown motel in a seedy section of Las Vegas and housed the twelve hunters in the sparsely furnished rooms. She’d offered the alpha hunters accommodations in the luxury house where she’d set up her office, but they had opted to remain with their men. All fifteen men had finally cycled through orientation, which included a language infusion and crash course in American social practices. They used the abandoned warehouse for daily training sessions to keep the hunters physically fit and combat the inevitable restlessness. They wanted to start their new lives, to finally experience real freedom. And more than anything else, they wanted to hunt.

  “Did the men appreciate the visitors I arranged last night?” She leaned her hips against the front edge of her desk and watched him closely. If he was as sex starved as the rest, why did he seem oblivious to her as a woman? She wore snug jeans and a clingy tank top that clearly outlined her generous breasts, yet he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead.

  As if he’d heard her complaint, his blue-ringed gaze suddenly bore into hers, but his stern expression didn’t change. “The pleasure givers were a pleasant diversion. When will we be allowed to hunt?”

  She chuckled. He’d added the question so quickly it sounded like one continuous sentence. Ignoring his impatience, she asked, “And the driving lessons? How many of the men have completed that training?”

  “We can teleport. Why do we need to learn how to operate primitive machines?”

  “Because every time you teleport you risk discovery and someone could sense the energy spike. If you hope to survive here, you must learn how to blend in.”

  He unclasped his hands and moved farther into the room. Despite his size, he moved with remarkable agility and stealth. It was easy to see how these men sneaked up on their prey. “Most of the hunters prefer the motorcycle to the car. I agree with their choice. I would like a motorcycle for my exclusive use.”

  “Fine. I’ll buy you a motorcycle.” And she could think of all sorts of ways he could thank her.

  “And one fo
r each of my men.” His gaze finally dipped to her cleavage and his hands folded into fists.

  So, he wasn’t as oblivious as he pretended. Good. One of the alpha hunters would eventually become her mate and right now she was leaning toward Nazerel. “The hunters descended from the South or all of the hunters?”

  “I am only concerned with my men. Darian and Zacharous are responsible for the rest.”

  “Dare and Zach. You guys need to get used to your human personas.” Pushing off the desk, she strolled toward him, desperately wanting to run her hand up his arm and over his sculpted chest. Nothing about his clothing was provocative, but the shape of the body beneath begged to be explored. “You are Naz Southmor. Your friends are Dare Eastman and Zach Westbrook. From now on call them by their human names.”

  His posture tensed again and his gaze narrowed. “My name is Nazerel. It will not be shortened.”

  “Fine.” She waved away the objection and took a breath. Now for the real reason she’d summoned him. “Did you make contact with one of the females?”

  One corner of his lips quirked in an unrepentant smirk, but he said nothing.

  “You have no idea what it took to compile those dossiers. If you—”

  He lunged so fast a startled cry replaced the rest of her sentence. His hands grasped her upper arms and he pressed her back against her desk. “I am the highest-ranking alpha hunter. It is my right to choose my mate first.”

  “That’s not the point.” She refused to let him frighten her. If she couldn’t control Nazerel, she’d lose control of the entire project. “You will have first choice, when it’s time to choose.” She tried to twist out of his grasp, but his grip remained constant.

  “Release her.” The unmistakable snap of a gun being cocked punctuated the deep command.

  She glanced beyond Nazerel and smiled at her head of security. “It’s fine, Marat. Nazerel was just being passionate.”